


Free Rein

by apastron (SnowGirl)



Category: The Scorpio Races - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Multi, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowGirl/pseuds/apastron
Summary: When Sean moved to a tiny island off the coast of England, he didn't expect to meet Corr, and he certainly didn't expect to meet Puck Connolly.





	1. Corr

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!! This AU was inspired by the slightly ridiculous Netflix show Free Rein! I'm cowriting this with notpuckconnolly, who doesn't have an ao3 so we're posting through my account. All of Puck's chapters are written by her, and Sean's are by me. This is gonna be cross-posted to Tumblr as well on notpuckconnolly's account, so look for it there too!

Sean 

It always smells like the sea here. It’s so different from the states, far away from the sound of shouting in the yard and horses being exercised. There is nothing quiet about a racing barn, no silence to fill your thoughts with. But here, the sea beats at the coastline, ever-present and ceaseless. It makes me feel at ease, and I wonder if it will ever fade to background noise the way the pounding of horses’ hooves had.

Even at my mother’s home, the sound of the sea is ever-present. The stone cottage is on the edge of a meadow at the end of a long dirt road, and it’s so different than the house I grew up in. I had expected to miss it, to miss my father, but I only miss the sounds of the barn. The door to the cottage opens without any resistance, and the rooms are tidy when I step inside. It doesn’t look like a home where anyone lives, and I wonder what sort of woman my mother is. I don’t remember anything at all about her, except that she and my father fought often.

The house is silent and motionless, and it makes my skin prickle. This is not a place I can imagine calling home. I put my things in the empty room upstairs and linger there, staring out the window. At the edge of the moors, I can see a strip of blue on the horizon, and when I open my window the faint sounds of the ocean flood in. I feel both settled and on edge, and when I leave for a walk the window stays open.

I head down a different road than the one to the docks, strolling past neatly trimmed hedges and low stone walls. I feel like I’m holding my breath, but for what I’m not sure. I hear the barn before I see it, the faint sounds of hoofbeats breaking through the trees. A horse whinnies, and the corner of my mouth lifts.

The barn is smaller than the racing barns I grew up in. In the ring, a boy jumps a piebald mare. She’s striking, the black parts of her coat impossibly dark and shining in the sunlight. Her rider is clumsy though, and she tips an ear backwards when he lands heavily on her neck after an oxer. For just a moment, a shadow passes over her face and she looks monstrous, her lip curling up to reveal sharp teeth.

“That’s Mutt Malvern,” a voice says, and I turn to see two boys about my age. One of them is tall and the other is short, but they look related; same hair, same nose. “I’m Brian Carroll,” the shorter one says, “and this is Jonathan.”

“We’re brothers,” Jonathan adds.

I don’t point out how obvious that is, but Brian makes eye contact with me and shrugs like he knows what I’m thinking. “Sean Kendrick,” I say, uncrossing my arms.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Brian says.

I jerk my hand towards the path I’d come down, “Moved in with my mother today.”

Across the barn, a sharp cry sounds and the Carroll brothers both start in the exact same way. A boy with fair hair jogs up to us, his oddly shaped lips pursed. “Corr’s loose,” he says, “and Mutt’ll have all our heads if we don’t find him.”

“You’ll help, won’t you Kendrick?” Brian says, and I nod.

“Corr’s a big red stallion,” Jonathan says, looking pleased to have said it before his brother.

The boy with far hair chuckles, “And he’s a terror. Be careful of him.”

The three of them split off in different directions and I am left alone, to search wherever I see fit. I don’t know the horses here and I don’t know the island, so I pick a road and follow it. I don’t realize I’m heading towards the ocean until the path turns to sand and the sound of waves breaking is louder than before. The beach gleams against the dark of the ocean, so blue it’s almost black, and the air bites into my jacket fiercer than it had a moment ago. Above me, seagulls cry and wheel about. The sand shifts under my feet, and the soft waves of the sea pool around my ankles, so cold I can feel the water’s bite even through my boots.

I am alone, but I still feel watched.

Far down the coast, I hear a cry, loud and wailing. It sounds like a baby screaming, but there’s no one here but me. The cry sounds again, and I turn towards the noise.

The sound of hoofbeats is familiar. I grew up on a racetrack; the sound of a full gallop is background noise, something I’ve been used to my whole life. So when I turn and there’s a brilliant red stallion charging towards me, I don’t flinch. Instead, I digs my heels into the sand and throw up my hands, shout “Woah!” as loud as I can.

The stallion rears and I take in his conformation, the slant of his head. There’s something hungry in his eyes, in the flare of his nostrils that I’ve never seen before in a horse. I feel more awake than I have in months. The stallion drops onto the sand, heavy and I cluck at him.

The horse’s rust-red ears prick, slender and narrow. He looks like no horse I’ve ever seen, and it’s invigorating. There’s something thudding in my ears and takes a moment to realize it’s my heartbeat, loud and heavy and making my blood sing. I feel so, so alive.

“Corr,” I say, and the stallion takes a step towards me. This close, I can see something threaded through his halter, a strand of scarlet cord twisted around his noseband. Distantly, I hear a car rumble down the road and pull up onto the sand. Corr makes a low sound in his throat and I echo it back to him. The waves crash against the shore, water pooling around our ankles and Corr shudders when the water touches him. He keens and twists his neck away from me, staring out to the sea.

I want so badly to understand what he’s thinking.

“Shhhh,” I say, soft like the ocean. Corr’s head snaps away from where he’d been staring out at the horizon and he turns to regard me with his left eye. Further down the beach, one of the doors of the car opens. This close, I can feel the warmth of Corr’s breath and see the slight tremble in his limbs.

I think of the way my father had looked right before he died. Even from the side of the racetrack, I had been able to feel the fear coming off of him in waves, had been able to see the whites of the stallion’s eyes and know that something was going to go wrong. He would have been terrified right now, I’m sure of it.

But I am not my father, and so I reach a hand out and rest it on Corr’s head. His face is damp, and the smell of the ocean is overpowering, stronger than it had seemed before. The air is thick with the smell of salt and the brine of the water, so pungent that it’s suffocating. Corr paws at the ground with a front hoof and I close my hand around his halter, “Easy.” I untie the red cord and cast it off to the sand. The shaking in Corr’s limbs subsides and I trace a counterclockwise circle on his cheek, lean up to whisper in his ear.

“Hey, you!” Someone shouts, further down the beach, “Get your head away from his face!”

I do not think that Corr will attack me, but I take a step to the side anyways, keeping a hand on his halter. There’s two men standing further down the beach, one holding a lead rope and the other a syringe. At the sight of them, Corr neighs, the sound high and uncertain amongst the crashing of the waves. I tighten my grip on his halter and think back to how deadly he had seemed only a moment before. Reason tells me I should not trust him, but my father didn’t trust any of the horses he exercised and he still ended up dead.

One of the men - well dressed, in expensive breeches and with perfect hair - steps forward, “Thanks for that. We’ll take him from here.”

He takes another step closer. At my side, Corr tenses and twists away and I go with him, letting him spin before jerking his head down. “Easy,” I say again, tracing circles on his neck. He shudders, but stays in place.

I want to tell the men that they’re upsetting the stallion and that he’d been calm before they’d gotten here, but instead I just meet their gaze, steady. “I can lead him back,” I say instead.

The younger one’s mouth quirks, and I recognize him as the boy with fair hair from the barn. “You’ll be wanting this,” he says, and tosses me his lead rope. It hits the sand to the right of us and Corr jerks away from the noise. I cluck at him and push him over a step. Instinct prickles at the back of my skull, telling me not to turn my back on this horse or bend down in front of him. I am certain he is faster than me.

Corr keens and I clamp a hand over his nose. “Corr,” I say, a warning in my voice. He doesn’t do it again, and I whisper into his ear before reaching down and picking the rope up off the ground. I don’t take my eyes off of him, but he makes no move to go after me. He jerks when I clip it onto his halter, and I turn towards him to whisper into his ear again.

“We’ll follow behind you in the car,” the first man says, the well-dressed one.

I turn Corr away from the ocean. He keens again, high and loud and I wish I understood what he wanted. It takes a moment, but he follows me, his steps becoming less tentative with every step away from the sea.

Corr is silent the way back to the barn, or as silent as he can be, anyways. I’m learning that he dislikes being still, that he’s beautiful to watch in motion, prancing at the end of the lead rope. He could be like any racehorse back in the states, except for the memory of how utterly unhorselike he looked only moments ago.

I feel eyes on us, on me, as we walk into the barn. Corr snorts at one of the other horses and pins his ears back, and I snap his lead rope.

“Sean Kendrick!” Jonathan calls, “You found Corr!”

I'm beginning to wonder if Jonathan ever says anything that isn’t obvious. At his cry, other people appear around the barn. A girl with red hair and a smear of freckles across her face peers out from an office, and a boy with a square jaw looks up from the ring, the same one who had been poorly jumping the piebald earlier.

I glance over my shoulder at the boy with fair hair as he jogs to my side. He points me towards a stall for Corr, and when I have him settled he calls for me, the sound piercing against the quiet of the barn. He sounds like no horse I’ve ever heard before.

I latch the stall door behind me and the spell hanging over the barn is broken. Conversations snap to life again, and the boy from the beach loiters outside of the stall. “I’m Tommy,” he says, extending a hand. “Tommy Falk.”

“Sean Kendrick,” I say, taking his hand.

Tommy opens his mouth as if to say something else, then looks at something over my shoulder and nods. “I’ll be seeing you, I’m sure,” he says, heading towards the ring.

The boy with the square jaw that Brian identified as Mutt earlier takes his place in front of Corr’s stall. His eyes flick over mine and his mouth is a harsh slant against his face. “Kendrick,” he says, spitting out my name like it’s a swear. “I’m Matthew Malvern. I hear you’re the one that brought back my horse.”

“Didn’t seem like your horse on the beach,” I say, and Mutt laughs. He’s smiling, but there’s murder in his eyes. He doesn’t deserve Corr.

“Watch your tone,” he says, “my father practically owns these stables.”

And now I know that Mutt is the sort of person who would rather flaunt his father’s name than earn any respect of his own. He's not the first of the like that I've met. I cross my arms and tip my head back to watch a bird, wheeling high above me in the sky. There's nothing more to say to him

“Watch your back, Kendrick,” Mutt snarls. He stalks off, shoving past me and I allow myself to smile for a moment.

I glance at Corr, pacing back and forth in his stall and then turn towards my mother’s house. She’ll be angry if I’m not back soon, I’m sure. As I’m leaving the well dressed man who had been with Tommy at the beach stops me. “Ho!” He says, “Sean Kendrick! You saved us a load of trouble with Corr earlier.”

His smile is broad and lopes across his face. Everything about him seems tailored, from the lilt of his voice to the way his hair is styled. “Where’d you learn to calm a horse down like that?” he asks, clapping me on the back.

I shrug and meet his gaze. He smiled when he asked the question, but there’s a strange light in his eyes and something tells me he sees more than he lets on, that he knows about my conversation with Mutt only moments ago.

“I’m George Holly,” he says, continuing on as I’ve replied to anything he’s said. “I expect we’ll be seeing you around here from now on.”

“Seems like it,” I say, and he laughs and slaps me on the back again before walking away.

I linger a moment longer, taking in the barn and everything about it before turning and heading back towards my new home, taking my time down the path that only leads to an empty home at the end of it. If I have a barn nearby, this might not be as awful as I thought it might be.

From the bushes at the side of the path, there’s a rustling, and then a duffel bag is thrown in front of me. A girl climbs out after it, her red curls a shock against the green of the bushes. She freezes when she sees me.

Is this a regular occurrence around here? I want to ask, but instead cross my arms and stare at her impassively. She picks the bag up off the ground and smooths her hair down, the movement wasted since the wind only whips it into a frenzy once more. She scowls, and the expression suits her more than her shock from when she first saw me. “I’m Puck,” she says.

I want to ask her why she’s climbing out of bushes instead of leaving the barn any other way, but there’s a slant to her eyes that says she’s daring me to. “Sean.”

“I know,” she says. Her hand tightens on her bag, and I wonder what’s inside it that’s so precious. “You brought Corr back.”

I nod, not taking my eyes off her bag. Her scowl deepens, “You can look inside it, if you like,” she snaps. “Since I’m obviously up to something with it.”

I want to point out that she obviously _is_ up to something, that she’s just climbed out of the bushes and is clutching her bag like it holds the key to the universe. The weight of her gaze reminds me of Corr though, of how it had felt to have his full attention. Just like with him, Puck seems like she’ll bite my hand off if I make the wrong move, so I shake my head and step to the side.

Her mouths quirks as she hoists her bag onto her back, “See you around, Sean Kendrick.”

 


	2. Close Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mutt insists on riding Corr for a photo shoot. It doesn't go well, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter two! It's notpuckconnolly's chapter this time, and it's amazing - hopefully y'all like it!

Puck

Dove is still laying down when I return home. 

I hadn't been expecting anything else, really. She's been like this for days now. But there's still the painful squeeze in my heart, the drop in anticipation that I hadn't even noticed climbing up. And then I shrug and slip into her stall anyways, palming a vial of stolen sedative from my duffel bag. 

The guilt has worn off long ago. Brightfield has horses worth more than the land we live on, and has plenty of revenue from lessons and training and sales. They're not going to miss the sedative, and Dove needs it desperately. I'll get mad about the injustices later, but for now, I run a soft hand down her neck, her coarse black mane, feeling the shudder in her breath beneath my palm. Her once gleaming sandy coat is now dull. So is the spark in her eye. “Easy, girl.” 

She's my mare, and my best friend. I don't know what I'll do without her. 

“This will help.” I pull the needle out of the tiny bottle, swallowing my distaste-  _ do it fast. Get it over with- _ and plunging it into her neck. For a second, Dove's eyes widen, but then she drops her nose to the ground. I listen for a moment, staying perfectly still, and think maybe her breathing has eased up, a little. 

“You stole that, didn't you?” I flinch, but it's just Finn, leaning over the stall door. He's being swallowed up in an oversize shirt and a hat he's stolen from Gabe, but he looks a little older than usual. And more disapproving. I look down at the vial and sigh. 

“Yes. But before you say anything, try to decide what's more immoral- stealing, or having an excess of something when others have a lack?” 

He doesn't answer, but he does swing the door open and let me out. “How are things at Brightfield?” 

I look around our yard for a moment before I can begin to search for a reply. It's always odd coming home after spending the day in the splendors of Brightfield. Dove's stable is merely a repurposed shipping container, and our house is just a tired shack on the verge of falling over. Junk litters the yard, mechanical projects Finn has taken up to help with the bills. Gabe is off somewhere, probably at the docks, and I'm suddenly exhausted. We were never  _ wealthy,  _ but things had been easier when our parents had been here. 

“Corr escaped today,” I say instead, because he reminds me of them. And there goes my mind, wandering down the bush-lined path I met that boy on. Sean Kendrick. 

Finn’s eyebrows spike. “Is he still loose?” 

“No. There was a boy- he caught him.”  _ How?  _ I suddenly wonder. Nobody has ever caught Corr before, not without a tranquilizer, but he wasn't drugged. “And brought him back. I think he's new to the island.” 

“Well, I was down at the cafe today. There's rumors, that the strange woman off Hemingway Avenue has a son that moved in. Maybe that's him.” Finn puts his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight from one leg to the other, cutting a glance at an old chainsaw some poor man begged him to fix, lying lonely on the ground. “What's for dinner?” 

“Your chainsaw,” I say dryly, “and possibly applecake if Gabe bothers to bring some home. I have Dove to look after.” 

Finn doesn't say anything as I turn back to my mare, aching with longing. For everything to be alright. For Corr to behave, for Dove to stand. But then my phone buzzes with a sharp command. 

_ Photoshoot tomorrow. Be here early to groom the horses. Holly.  _

Five dollars an hour feels more worth it some days and less others. 

I text him back.  _ I'll be there.  _

_ ***** _

“Whoa!” 

It's the next morning, too early to be properly awake, but I've already groomed three horses and am about to start on Skata, Mutt’s demon of a mare. She's massive and drop-dead gorgeous, but only just barely more rideable than Corr. I don't understand why he has such a penchant for the dangerous horses, but he does, so I'm standing beneath her, coaxing a stone from her hooves, when Holly comes around the corner and manages to dump an entire cup of coffee over the mare and I both. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, genuinely. For all my issues with my employment, I can't hold Holly’s position against him. He's one of the most tolerable people I've met. And coming from me, that's saying a lot. “I didn't see you there.” 

“That's fine,” I say. It isn't. Lukewarm coffee is dripping down my shirt and plastering my hair to the back of my neck, but at least the brunt of it avoided Skata. “When is the photographer supposed to be here?” 

He checks his watch distractedly. “Eight. Nine. I don't know. Soon. By the way, have you groomed Corr?” 

“I don't have a-” I bite my tongue. “No. What for?” 

“Matthew wants to use him for the photoshoot, instead of Skata.” Holly smiles ruefully at my expression, which is about as shitty as the muck heap. “I know, but it is his decision.” 

“And my neck I'm risking.” I plunge my hoofpick back into the grooming box and untie Skata. “I'll put her up and get him.” 

“Excellent. Thank you.” Holly nods shortly at me and strides off, to do whatever it is he does. Some days I feel like I'm the one doing all the work, alongside Tommy, while Holly just sits in the office and stares at bills. What's the point in running a yard if you don't  _ do  _ anything? 

I'm walking Skata past Corr's stall when I notice him. The boy from yesterday, leaning against the stall door, studying the dark shape of Corr against the back wall. I stop shortly. “Sean Kendrick.” 

He doesn't startle, but the surprised look he shoots me tells me that he hadn't realized I was here. “Puck.” He says it more like a question, like he wants to ask why that's my name. He's not the first. I narrow my eyes. 

“What is it that you are doing?” I ask, because it's still suspiciously early and his hands are empty and he doesn't seem like the type to have empty hands for long. He shrugs, which infuriates me. It's bad enough having Mutt around here, doing nothing, without having another person doing the same. An idea is slowly forming in my mind. “Would you like to groom him?” 

He doesn't answer, but his expression clears. I hadn't realized it was cloudy before. “Excellent,” I say briskly, lifting Skata’s lead line to point.  _ I'm too busy to help.  _ “There's grooming supplies over there. I trust you know how to use them?” 

“Yes.” His voice is soft, but assured. I believe him. 

And by the way he's looking at Corr, I can't help but think that maybe he's not doing me a favor, but the other way around. The red stallion is a monster, unpredictable and raw, but there's something between him and Sean that abruptly reminds me of me and Dove. It's disconcerting.

Skata nudges my arm. If I don't put her up soon, she's going to burst out. So I don't respond to Sean, though I very much want to, and instead lead Skata away. He can handle Corr on his own, I know that much. 

*****

I hear the screaming from the other side of the stables. 

It's loud, pitched, wrought entirely of frustration and anger and maybe a little bit of fear, and undoubtedly Mutt’s. There is no reason for me to care. But then there's shouting- Holly’s- and I drop my pitchfork and bolt for the arena. 

All of the riders are present- there's Jonathan and Brian on their sturdy cob ponies, and Tommy on his slender black mare and Daly, Mutt’s crony, on his own sturdy bay gelding. And then there's Mutt, but it's not Mutt so much as the sound of Mutt screaming from the back of a rearing, furious, glittering Corr. A camera is flashing past of the face of a stocky man. I slam against the arena fence, palms stopping my chest from hitting it. Next to me is Sean, watching the scene unfolding, and though his face looks impassive, there's something about it that's terrible. He's watching Corr lose his mind, and it's hurting him. Holly is watching him, too. 

“Go to him,” I snap. And that's all he needed. The strange boy is over the fence and across the arena in a flash, and impossibly, Corr notices this. Impossibly, Corr cares. 

He drops down from his rear. 

“See?” Mutt’s already bragging, unable to care that he's nearly just come off. “He just needed to be shown who's boss.” 

But he doesn't see. He doesn't see the murder in the stallion’s eyes. He doesn't see the way everybody in the arena is not looking at him, but at Sean. He doesn't see Sean beneath the stallion’s face, calming him down. But slowly, Sean does. I study the way Corr flirts his sinuous neck around him, studies him with that eye that's a little too intelligent.

It's amazing, really. There's no reason for this relationship, but here it is. Sean and Corr. It's already beginning to feel like a fact. 

“Get off the horse,” Holly says quietly. His mouth is set, his eyes dark, his hands pulled behind his back. 

Mutt’s sneer is frozen on his face. “What?” 

“Get off the horse. Go get Skata instead.” 

“Who are you to tell me to do that?” Mutt demands. “I'll do with my horse what I want to do!” 

“I am in charge of this yard and the safety of everybody in it,” Holly says. His tone is even, controlled, but there's something dangerous about it. “And I'm telling you to get off this horse.” 

Mutt’s disbelieving gaze flashes around the arena. To the Carroll brothers, who pointedly look away. To Tommy, who shrugs in a ‘just-do-it’ sort of a fashion. To Daly, who I don't think is even paying attention, and then to the camera man, who is zooming in on Sean and Corr. He doesn't even notice me. Nobody ever does. 

And then he realizes that Sean is there. His face contorts in fury and he draws himself up in the saddle, as though he's about to explode. Corr beats him to it. 

In a single, violent wrench of his body, Corr has thrown himself to the side. He ducks his head, lifts his back, and Mutt is tumbling down, down, down. The stallion bolts across the arena, lapping everybody as they struggle to calm their own suddenly riled horses. I jump up across the fence, stretching for his bridle, but he flies past me. Past the cameraman, and through the herd of gathered riders. Ponies scatter. 

And then Sean is in the stallion’s way. “Corr,” he says. Nobody else hears it, but I do, and the stallion slides to a stop at his feet, inches away from him. His breathing fills the air. 

The arena is utterly silent. 

Mutt finally leaps to his feet. “I'll get Skata,” he shouts. “But remember who's fault this is. We're paying you, Holly, to train this beast. If I get hurt, it's on  _ you.”  _

Holly watches Mutt go. The whole of the arena does, but I'm watching Sean. 

What I see is amazing. 


	3. Spying on Puck

Sean

Corr becomes the only saving grace about life on the island. My mother and I don’t speak, other than awkward, stilted conversations where she tries to pretend she didn’t abandon me and we tiptoe around the death of my father.

“Are you sure you should be riding?” She asks one morning, fingers cradled around her cup of coffee. “Is it what your father would have wanted for you?”

I think about saying that she doesn’t know me at all if she thinks I would’ve minded my father’s wishes, or that there’s no way she’s going to keep me away from Corr. Instead I put my plate in the sink and don’t look at her. “Doesn’t matter now,” I say.

She sucks in a breath, her fingernails tapping against the porcelain cup. “I suppose so,” she says faintly, then stands and walks out of the room. I’ve upset her, even though it was only the truth.

I finish off my coffee and head to the barn. There’s more important things to concern myself with than my absent mother’s feelings about my father.

Jonathan and Brian are leaning on the fence of the ring and talking, something about jump courses that I don’t entirely follow.

“Guess what I heard?” Jonathan says when I walk up to them, interrupting Brian’s sentence halfway through. Both of us stare at him and he pauses, letting the moment hang between the three of us. He looks thrilled to have information that his brother doesn’t, and the seconds tick by before he speaks. “I heard Holly talking to Tommy, and someone’s been stealing sedatives.”

Brian frowns, “Do they have any idea who?”

“No,” Jonathan says. He arches an eyebrow, “Maybe it’s Ghost Pony.”

Brian rolls his eyes, “You can’t be on this again.”

Jonathan chuckles and elbows his brother in the side, “I don’t know, it seems like the kind of thing GP would do.”

I clear my throat, “Ghost Pony?”

Jonathan’s eyes light up, and he turns towards me with a curved grin spreading across his face. “Ghost Pony,” he echos. “Legends say that she died out on the moors and kills all who come across her.”

I pick at a chip on the fence and grunt. There’s not anything I can say that would render that statement any less ridiculous.

On the other side of the fence, Brian shifts again, leaning more of his weight against the fence. “Be serious,” he says to his brother. “Does Holly have any ideas about the thief?”

Jonathan gnaws on his lip, debating the thrill of spreading a secret against the ability to be in control of the conversation. Finally, he sighs. “No, not really. But Puck Connolly’s been a bit odd lately, hasn’t she? I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew something.”

Brian’s face twists, “Puck? No, she wouldn’t do something like that. She’s alright, even if she’s got a sharp tongue.”

Jonathan shrugs, “You never know.”

They both look to me, and I cross my arms. I don’t know Puck well, but she doesn’t seem like the type, and I don’t trust Jonathan’s word. She’s a barn hand though, and would be the person most like to know something. I think of her crawling out from behind the bushes my first day on the island and the vice grip she’d had on her bag. It wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on her, would it? “Could be,” I say, and Jonathan’s grin cuts across his face. Brian narrows his eyes and glances at me, then nods as Jonathan launches into an explanation of where Puck is and how we can catch her red-handed.

I shade my eyes and tune out the conversation, looking across the barn to where Puck is mucking stalls. She wouldn’t steal from the barn, not unless she had a good reason.

-

The rest of the day is devoted to following Puck around as casually as we can manage. I end up doing the brunt of it, as Jonathan is unable to stay quiet and Brian has a midday lesson. I resent the fact that I’m wasting time on a vague inclination of Jonathan’s, but I have nothing to do until my lesson on Edana in the afternoon. I’m about to give up on Puck when I see her pause next to the tack room and duck into the storage shed next to it, which wouldn’t be odd except for the way she’d looked around the yard. Before I can stop myself, I slip into the tack room and crouch behind a rack of saddles, and wait.

One minute passes, then two, and I start to stand up at the same time the door starts to creak open. I drop back behind my hiding spot, and watch as Puck closes the door very carefully behind her, glances around like a scared animal, and pulls a screwdriver out of her pocket to open the doors of the cabinet. She glances around one last time, her red hair the only bright point in the dim room, and pockets a bottle of sedatives.

My mouth twists, and I recognize the disappointment a second after it hits. I had really wanted to believe that Puck wasn’t stealing from Holly. I step out from behind the saddles, standing between her and the door. “Puck,” I say, and she spins around, her hair flying behind her.

“It’s not what you think!” She snaps, but her hand moves to cover her pocket as she says it, and I find it hard to believe her.

I want to say that it looks like she’s stealing, and the rumors I’ve heard of a horse thief might not be so far off after all, but I just cross my arms and glower at her.

There’s a furrow between her eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Forget you saw this,” she says. “It’s-”

Puck’s cut off by the door to the tack room swinging open, and all the color drains from her face. I look behind me to see Mutt Malvern, standing in the doorway, a smirk already springing to his lips. “What do we have here?” He says. “Got something to hide, Kendrick?”

“No,” I say, but I glance towards Puck as I say it. I regret selling her out as soon as I’ve done it, and Mutt’s face lights up when he sees the open cabinet behind her.

“That should be locked,” he says, his gaze resting on Puck. “And you don’t have a key, do you Puck.”

Her hand on her pocket tightens, and the glare she shoots me is dripping with venom. “No,” she says, “I don’t.”

The look on Mutt’s face can’t be described as anything other than gleeful. He wheels around and cups his hands around his face, “Puck’s been stealing the sedatives!” He shouts, and all action in the barn grinds to a halt.

Holly is the first to enter the barn, Tommy on his heels. Tommy spares a curious glance for me, but all of Holly’s attention is on Puck. “Is this true?” He says, and he sounds nothing like what I’ve come to expect from him. Holly is kind, easy to laugh and even easier to smile, but his voice is devoid of inflection.

Puck’s eyes dart around the room, and her hand uncurls from the bottle of sedatives in her pocket, “Yes.”

Holly’s face becomes impossibly more blank, and his shoulders drop. “Tommy,” he says faintly, “Would you call the police?”

The police arrive minutes later, and Puck goes without a fuss. Holly hovers around the police car before finally deciding to go with Puck to the station. I’m glad she won’t be alone. In the background, Corr’s kicking at his stall, over and over again as we watch the police car drive away. With Holly gone, there’s no one to yell at us for gawking, and we linger in the barnyard until the police car has disappeared down the lane.

It’s Mutt who finally breaks the stillness of it all, the sneer in his voice cutting through the air, “I always thought Holly should’ve known better than to hire people like her.”

Daly laughs, the noise ringing hollow in the face of everyone else’s silence. An expression flits across Tommy’s face, gone before I can place it, and Brian’s jaw tightens. There’s a glint in his eye I wasn’t expecting. “People like who?” He says, so softly that it cuts through Daly’s ringing laughter.

Mutt’s face contorts, “Pity projects.”

I cross my arms and think about how satisfying it would be to punch Mutt Malvern in the face. Puck Connolly isn’t anything to me, and I have no idea who she is to Brian, but Mutt shouldn’t be talking about her like this.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other and glance at Brian, who’s tightened one of his hands and looks ready to take a swing at Mutt. I don’t think Brian’s foolish enough to start a fight he can’t win, but I think I would help him if he did.

I start to say something to Brian, but then I realize that Corr’s stopped kicking at his stall. The sound dies in my throat, silence rushing up to fill the barn. For a moment, everything is still, and then there’s the unmistakable sound of wood splintering. I turn around, just in time to see Corr crash through the door to his stall and take off across the barn.

“Kendrick!” Tommy shouts, and I sprint through the open gate in the ring, launching over the fence on the far side and landing heavy on my feet in front of Corr.

“Get away from my horse!” Mutt shouts, starting to move closer only to have Tommy close a hand around his forearm.

“Don’t!” he snaps, “Let Sean handle it.”

Mutt grimaces, but my attention is on Corr. He skids to a stop in front of me and keens, high and uneasy. The sound sends prickles across my skin, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I’m not afraid, but I feel like I should be.

Corr keens again and I cluck at him. He paws at the ground, the sound of his hoof striking the ground loud in the otherwise silent yard. Tommy climbs over the fence and drops down next to me and Corr turns to study him with his left eye, his hoof still pawing the ground. He’s uneasy, and I can only calm him so much.

“Let’s put him in Skata’s stable,” Tommy says, and I nod. When I step closer to Corr I can see his muscles tighten, but he lets me get close enough to grab his halter and for Tommy to clip a lead rope on him. I trace circles on his neck and tie knots in his mane, then lead him into Skata’s stall and latch the door behind me. Tommy flashes a grin at me, his teeth blindingly white. We don’t speak the same language, but he’s trying and I can respect that. I school my face into something more relaxed and his grin stretches impossibly wider across his face.

“Good one, Kendrick,” he says, then turns and walks back towards Mutt and the others.

-

That evening, my mother and I stare at each other from across the kitchen table and try to think of things to say to each other. She asks about my day and I say I was at the barn and after that there isn’t really much else to say. I ask how work was, and she smiles, close-lipped, and says that it was just fine, thank you for asking.

I don’t know how to talk to her, and I don’t know that I want to learn.

I’m saved from more small talk by the faint sounds of police sirens, cutting through the stagnant conversation. My mother starts and jerks her head towards the window, her brown hair falling forward from where she’d pinned it behind her ear. “That’s odd,” she says, “it’s late for the police to be out.”

I peer out the window from behind her shoulder, and the ground beneath my feet tilts. I want to say that they’re heading towards Brightfield, but what comes out instead is more important. “Corr,” I say, my voice far quieter than I’d intended it to be.

And maybe my mother does understand me better than I thought, because she turns to regard me - in a way not unlike how Corr studies people with his left eye - and nods, as if answering a question. “Go on then.”

I want to tell her thank you, but I’ve forgotten how to speak. My mind is racing; the only thoughts I can hold steady are of Corr. The way to the barns is longer by night, stretching unfamiliar out in front of me as I hurry towards the sirens. There’s no lights, and the flashlight on my phone gives off a glow so pathetic that it hardly does more than outline the path. I’m not Jonathan, and I don’t believe in any Ghost Pony, but it does seem like a night for legends to come true.

The sign for Brightfield finally appears at the edge of the weak circle of light, and I feel my pulse quicken as I approach the stable. The police sirens haven’t stopped blaring, but the noise fades as I head towards Corr. My feet walk faster of my own accord, and I’m already bracing myself for an empty stall. But when I get to the door, Corr is a dark shape in the corner. He nickers when I hold my hand out, and steps forward to huff a warm breath against my hand. For the first time since I heard the sirens, the ground steadies. My pulse returns to normal, and for a moment I forget about the police sirens and all is well.

Then I come back to my senses, and turn towards the center of the barn yard to see what the fuss is about. Further down, standing in the shadow of the stall Corr broke out of earlier that day, is Mutt. For once, he’s still, looking down at a spot on the ground. “They took her,” he says, raising his head to look me in the eye. There’s something ugly in his gaze, something twisted and angry. “They took her,” he says again. “The horse thieves took Skata.”


	4. Pony Camp!

Puck

  
The worst part is the humiliation.   
  
Holly rides with me in the car, answering questions that I cannot, looking everywhere but at me as the blue and red lights flash across the dusky night. "A criminal is in this car," they say. Gabe cannot get off work, so it's Finn that comes to the police station, but we can't afford bail, so he just brings me a cupcake in a folded-over paper napkin. When he leaves, the station is colder than ever. I don't get the chance to shower, either, so I'm left to smell like I work in the stables.   
  
It is morning before they decide I'm innocent. Holly arrives in his truck, not Gabe, and I drag myself inside it. It's neat, organized, unlike every other aspect of my life, but it's not the reason I feel uncomfortable.   
  
Holly is.   
  
I thought I trusted him.   
  
The drive is awkward and quiet, punctuated by intakes of breaths as though Holly is about to say something but then changes his mind at the last second. I'm expecting that he'll take me home- surely, I'm fired- but he turns off the main road, and it's heading towards the yard. I'm too uncertain to ask, though.     
  
Finally we drive into Brightfield, and I'm almost disappointed. Everything looks the same. The yard is neatly raked, elegant heads hang out over the stall doors, and there's Jonathan with his witless pinto cob pony and the rest of the riders in the courtyard, gossiping as usual. Sean's there, too, not saying anything. His eyes find mine almost immediately, apologetic.   
  
I'm not accepting any apologies. I deserve better than this.   
  
Before I can push open the door and escape the awkward silence, there's a click. The truck locks, and Holly is looking at me.   
  
"You didn't ride Dove to work yesterday," he says. "You rode your bike instead."   
  
I finally look back at him, for the first time today, and he isn't mad. He's studying me, eyes narrowed, mouth thoughtful, but he isn't mad. I let out a breath. "I haven't ridden her to work in nearly two weeks."   
  
Not that he'd notice. He's wonderful compared to the company he keeps, but he's still the owner of a high-end stable. I'm merely the groom.   
  
Still, understanding dawns in his sun-lined eyes. "There's been a few cases of sick moor ponies on your side of the island."   
  
The rush of words presses up against my mouth, begging to come out. I can explain, I can justify, I can reason, but instead I duck my head and stare at my boots. It's past time for talking.   
  
Holly is silent for a long time. Too long. I risk a cautious glance, and he's staring absentmindedly out the window, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. He goes so long without saying anything that I begin to wonder if he's waiting for me to reply. If he even wants a reply. Or maybe he's just forgotten I'm here.   
  
"You can take the sedatives as needed. And borrow Chester to ride back and forth, as long as you keep him away from Dove. You may find this hard to believe because of last night, but I do trust you. The rest of the riders would, too, if you just tried a little."   
  
I ignore this. I don't care about the other riders. Maybe I haven't tried, but they haven't either. However... "and Sean?"   
  
Holly eyes me out of the corner of his eye. There's a funny glint to it, as if he knows something I don't. "What?" I demand crossly, glaring back. "What is it?"   
  
He laughs softly. "Get to work, Puck."   
  
*****   
  
It's the worst time of the year, pony camp time. There's lunchboxes, sparkly riding crops, half-assembled bridles, and tiny children everywhere. I trip over nearly all of them, holding my tongue only because I know I'm on a tightrope with Holly.   
  
But then there's a dog, and it's underfoot. "Curse you!" I snap at it, only because it won't snap back at me.   
  
"Puck Connolly!"   
  
It's Holly. Somehow, impossibly, he's heard me swear at the dog. But the look he shoots me across the yard isn't chastising- more tired than anything. "Yes?"   
  
"Tommy is teaching a lesson. You'll have to go with the older group on the hack. I'll get some of the pony kids to finish with your stalls."   
  
A hack sounds a lot better than stalls, but the older kids... their accusations still sting me. Had I been born into a different life, had more money, I would be them. Instead, I'm against them. I put my pitchfork down with a sigh. "I'll go ready Skata for Mutt." The heavens know he won't do it himself.   
  
"Ah, actually..." Holly hesitates, suddenly realizing that he doesn't want to shout this across the yard. "Mutt will be riding Sweeter today."   
  
And that's how I find out Skata has been stolen.   
  
The yard seems different, I realize as I saddle up Chester. The riders move together in clusters, there are concerned looks shot towards the door that Corr shattered yesterday, and the usual excited screams of the children have been dampened. I'd been too caught up in my own problems until now, but my mind swirls with speculation. Who would steal Skata? Why? She's a beautiful horse with a show record, but she's difficult to manage and too flashy to pass off as another horse easily.   
  
I still haven't finished wondering by the time I'm climbing into Chester's saddle. He's a beautifully built chestnut sport horse, a bit young and silly, but his owner has high hopes for him. He shakes his head with excitement, at the prospect of a ride, and I steady him with a soft word and a touch to the neck, looking round for the riders I'm to be guiding.   
  
There's Jonathan, and Brian. Jonathan seems distracted by the air, but Brian is looking at me apologetically. I look away. This would have been easier with Tommy here- he has an easy way about him that relaxes everybody. And then there's Daly, and Mutt, and... Sean, sitting easily on Edana, one of our lesson horses.   
  
Something unpleasant tugs in my stomach. I'm not surprised about Mutt accusing me yesterday. He's always been a bit spoilt, and holds people like me to a low standard. But Sean... he doesn't even know me. And he accused me anyways. He notices when I notice, and his mouth flattens into a frown.   
  
I look down and urge Chester forwards. "We're going this way."   
  
"Hold up." Mutt's voice freezes me. "I thought Tommy was giving this tour."   
  
"Tommy is busy," I snap back, riding past him. "Either you come with me or you don't come at all. I'll try not to disappoint."   
  
Too late, I think maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. I'm on thin enough ice as it is. But, pleasant surprise- the riders follow me without another complaint.   
  
My bad mood did nothing to damper the loveliness of the day. We rode out to the moors, a rich summer green. The sky was painted a light blue, and far off in the distance I could hear the ocean crashing into the shores. Chester beneath me was supple and smooth and eager to get moving, tossing his head and playing with the bit. I let him have his fun, and when the wind picked up, he bucked forwards, tail snapping and ears pricked, out for a good time.   
  
"Sit up!" Came Sean's voice. There was something about it that made me think that he wasn't meaning to be patronizing- this was out of habit. But still, I pull Chester up and shoot him a glare. He flinches away from my gaze but then returns the look, mouth moving as though he's trying to pull words from somewhere.   
  
To say what, I don't know.   
  
"Legend has it that Medusa can turn people to stone with a single look," Mutt says, laughing. Not like it's funny. "Puck, meanwhile, can turn them into absolute horsesh-"   
  
"Mutt," Brian snaps.   
  
I look away from Sean and collect my reins. "We're just doing a short loop towards the woods and back. Holly needs help with the campers and I want to be here about as much as you guys do, okay? Let's just go."   
  
We pick up a trot and let the horses find their own ways down the hills, their steps sure and certain. They know the moors about as well as I do. We're practically in my backyard. I suddenly miss home, painfully and desperately. I've only been gone for a night, and it's tiny and crappy, but it's home and it's where Dove is. I hope Finn took care of her while I was in-   
  
"Puck."   
  
It's Sean, trotting easily alongside me even though Edana is shaking her head and gaping her mouth against the bit. And he's apologetic, gaze fighting to stay on me though I can tell that he wants to look anywhere but. "I'm sorry."   
  
He doesn't deserve an answer. He doesn't deserve my words, because clearly he thinks his are too valuable to waste on anything more elaborate than an 'I'm sorry'. But I reply, "Yeah, me too."   
  
He takes a deep breath and looks away. "I didn't mean for-"   
  
My house is only just over the hill. Dove is a five-minute ride away from here. Two at a gallop. "Jonathan!" I shout, the wind tearing my words towards the back of the group. "You're in charge until I get back. I'll meet up with you in a bit."   
  
Chester gives a start as I whirl him around. There's Brian, eyes wide, and Jonathan looking suddenly gleeful. I don't even spare a glance for Mutt and Daly, and then we're gone, Chester a streak of copper across the moors. I crouch low over his neck, grabbing mane to keep it from slapping at my face. He's eager for the run, stretching out, ears flattened to keep the wind out of them.   
  
I laugh. It's short, and it hurts, but it's real.   
  
There's the sound of hoofbeats behind me, but I think I imagined them.   
  
Soon enough, my home draws into view. There's the paddocks, and the box we've been keeping Dove in, and- my heart gives a painful twinge- Finn, sitting on the doorsteps, looking awfully like an orphan.   
  
He is an orphan. So am I.   
  
"Puck!" Finn's voice is thin as he stands and jogs over towards Chester and I as I swing off the gelding. "Gabe called to tell me you got out."   
  
There's betrayal in his words. I hadn't called him.   
  
"My phone died," I explain. "They don't let you charge it in jail."   
  
He flinches at my words and brushes his fingers against Chester's nose, the gelding still breathing hard from the run. "Holly let you keep your job."   
  
"Yes. He...." I pause. "He understands, I think. He's letting me take sedatives as needed, and borrow Chester until Dove is better. I don't think he wants to worry about what I'm doing when he has the horse thieves to worry about."   
  
"Horse thieves," Finn echoes, eyes large and uncertain. "They came last night?"   
  
"Yes. They took Skata." I still can't understand it.   
  
"What about Corr?"   
  
The question seems out of place, coming from Finn's mouth. But Corr is... untouchable. He's more than an unmanageable horse to us Connollys. I shake the thought out of my head. "They're not going to take him. He's too crazy."   
  
Finn doesn't say anything. But there's relief in his eyes, that changes to confusion. "What is-"   
  
Hoofbeats behind us.   
  
I turn, just in time to see Sean and Edana clatter into our yard, Edana breathless and Sean hunched over, questioning. I stiffen. Maybe at Brightfield I'm a groom, but here, I'm home. This is my place, and he has no right to come here uninvited. "You shouldn't have followed me."   
  
He slides down off of Edana, expression sharp and windblown. "I couldn't let you ride off like that."   
  
"Actually, you could have." I turn back to Finn, who's face is unreadable. Now I have to go back, to return Holly his student and horse. But there's something I need to do first.   
  
"She hasn't eaten since you've been gone," Finn says, answering a question I haven't asked.   
  
I'm gone, pressing the reins into Finn's palm.   
  
Dove is still down when I get to her, face pressed against the bedding, breathing irregular. Where she once would have greeted me with a nicker, she now does with a flick of her ear. There's no energy for anything else. I bend down beside her and press my palms into her neck, eyes closed. I can't stand to see her like this.   
  
"The sedatives were for her."   
  
It's Sean, standing over the stall door, looking in. His face is drawn and he's regretful and worried and guilty all at once. "Puck, I-"   
  
"Don't," I snap, suddenly horrified to feel tears burning my eyes. "Just. Don't."   
  
There's silence, and I think he's left, but then he's in the stall and bent over Dove, running a hand through her mane. His presence is quiet, uncommanding, and Dove is unconcerned by him.   
  
I bite my lip and let my fingers trail gingerly down her face, stopping at the whorl on her forehead and brushing her eyes. "She's going to be okay. She has to be."   
  
Sean doesn't say anything. Merely thins his lips, but his gaze softens on Dove. He's not like the others at Brightfield. They wouldn't spare a second thought for a sick pony. But here he is, kneeling in the straw, cradling a mare he doesn't even know. Maybe I'm wrong about him.   
  
"We should get back," I finally say. "They're going to be wondering where we are."   
  
He nods, once, agreeing. But for awhile we don't move. It's just us bent over Dove, praying for her to get better.


	5. The Sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here's chapter 5 of the free rein au! I'm sorry this chapter is so late; I just started college and have been swamped with work!! Anyways, thanks for being so understanding and here you go!

Sean

When I walk into Brightfield, Corr isn’t in his stall, and I don’t see him in the field either. For one, terrible moment, I’m motionless with the fear that something happened to him. Then I see Mutt holding him from across the yard, and the fear is gone in an instant, replaced by a dizzying rush of anger. Corr is straining at the end of the lead rope, his eyes wide and his nostrils flared. He doesn’t look like the horse that runs to the fence when I call his name, or even the horse that drops down from a rear when I ask the right way. He looks dangerous. He looks like he’s going to hurt someone.

I’m across the barn before I fully realize I’m moving, stepping in beside Mutt.

His mouth curls when he sees me and the pleasure on his face is off-putting. He knows something I don’t, and I’m not sure I’d like to know what it is. “Has no one told you, Kendrick?” He sneers.

My mouth is dry, and I hate that he has power over me. Corr keens when he sees me, and Mutt snaps the lead rope, jerking Corr’s head to the side. It’s unnecessary and he’s only doing it to hurt me. “What?” I say, wanting nothing more than to reach out and grab Corr from Mutt and take him far, far away from here.

Mutt cackles and Corr flinches away from the noise, striking at the ground with his front hoof. Mutt yanks his lead rope again and Corr lets out a scream unlike any I’ve ever heard. Seconds tick by, and Corr doesn’t try anything, just stares at Mutt.

“You’re upsetting me horse,” he says, “and you’re not to come near him anymore. Since Holly didn’t tell you, I will.” He doesn’t say anything, drawing the moment out to prolong my misery. “My father doesn’t want you near such a valuable horse anymore,” he says. “You’re just not experienced enough to work with a difficult horse like Corr.”

He grins at me, and it’s the most sinister thing I’ve ever seen. My heart stops working, and I look at Corr and think _this is the closest I’ll ever get to be to him again_. I shouldn’t have underestimated how willing Mutt is to run to his father. I don’t know how I’m supposed to bear it, watching Mutt with Corr and being unable to settle him. There’s nothing to say, and so I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jacket and walk away, Mutt’s laughter following me across the yard.

-

“I can’t believe you can’t ride Corr,” Brian says, later, when him and Jonathan and I are at the cafe in town. “What does Mutt think he’s doing?”

I want to say that I think Mutt knows exactly what he’s doing, or at least enough that he knows this will hurt me and is therefore worth whatever detriment to Corr it will cause. I don’t respond to Brian’s question though, and let him mutter under his breath about how Mutt’s an idiot. On that, at least, I can agree with him. I take a sip of my tea and the image of Corr, jerking at the end of a rope held by Mutt Malvern is burned into my eyes. I don’t know what I’ll do if Mutt hurts him. I don’t know what I’ll do if he hurts Mutt.

“I don’t see why anyone would want to ride Corr,” Jonathan says, completely misreading everything as usual. “Anyone who goes near that horse has a death wish.” He pauses for a moment, then seems to remember that I’m sitting across the table from him. “That is, except for you, Kendrick,” he tacks on at the end.

Before I can try to form a succinct response to Jonathan’s ridiculousness, Tommy Falk walks in, Daly and Puck Connolly’s brother Gabe at his heels. I’m surprised by Daly, but Tommy’s friends with everyone at Brightfield in an easygoing, non-confrontational sort of way. I don’t know how he does it. He even manages to get along with Mutt, most days. Gabe Connolly is more unexpected. I didn’t even knew they knew each other, but when I look at the two of them together it’s all I see. Daly trails behind, forgotten, while Tommy jostles against Gabe, hands flying as he prattles on about something. It’s satisfying to watch them be close, and I wonder what it would be like to be known like that, to have someone who knew when to step close and when to step away.

Tommy glances over at me from across the cafe, sees me watching him and Gabe and nods, as if in answer to something I said. My mouth twitches and Tommy crosses the room over to where we’re sitting. He leans forward, dropping his elbows onto the table and smiles at me like he’s telling me a secret. I hadn’t noticed how nice of a mouth he’d had earlier.

“Kendrick,” he says.

I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me, but I wish I did. “Tommy,” I say, and he laughs. He’s always laughing, and I wish I knew his secret. He makes everything seem so much more carefree than it actually is.

He shakes his head and then pushes himself off the table, “I’ll see you,” he says, and I watch him walk back across the room to where Gabe and Daly wait. Daly doesn’t seem to react, but Gabe’s face makes an expression I can’t quite place as Tommy slides in next to him. I look away before he can see me watching.

There’s a moment where Jonathan and Brian are both silent, and then Jonathan drums his fingers against the table. “What was that?”

I shrug and take a sip of my of coffee so I don’t have to answer.

-

Puck Connolly’s yard is quiet when I get there. The car I had seen the other day is gone, and I don’t hear either of her brothers. Gabe is probably still with Tommy, I reason, and Finn must be off with his car. But I’m not looking for either of them, and so I head right to the back, to the old shipping container where I know Dove lies.

The mare is still laying down when I get there, and Puck is crouched in the straw next to her, whispering something into her ear. She looks up when I approach, and her expression goes from soft and gentle to hardened in an instant. It hurts, and I don’t understand why.

“What do you want?” She asks, fisting one of her hands in Dove’s mane.

I hold up the radio as an explanation and she frowns. “We used it to calm down the thoroughbreds back home,” I say, and her mouth twitches. I take that as a good sign, so I open the door and let myself in. “And,” I say, crouching down on Dove’s other side and setting the radio gently down. “I brought bread.” I pull the loaf from my pocket and unwrap it.

Puck’s hand twitches like she’s going to take it from me, then settles back on Dove’s neck. “Is that for Dove too?”

I make eye contact with her and smile, extending out the bread, “No.”

As it turns out, bread shared in a stall with Puck Connolly is the best meal I’ve ever had. We finish the loaf between us in minutes, and Puck’s face is gentler when it’s done, the lines in her face smoothed out. It’s a nice look on her, and I want to see more of it. The radio drones on, filling the shipping container with quiet classical music. Neither of us say anything, but the silence settles over both of us. Puck understands me in a way the others don’t, in a way even Tommy with his lopsided grins and knowing looks doesn’t. Minutes pass, and Puck starts to stand up. As she moves, a miracle happens.

Dove stands up.

It’s slow, and her breathing is labored, but she’s standing, against all odds. Puck lets out a delighted noise I didn’t know she was capable of making and pushes her face into Dove’s neck, her arms wrapped around her. It makes my throat tighten, and I think of Corr. When Puck pulls back from Dove, her eyes are red, and I cut my eyes away so she doesn’t have to cry in front of me.

“Thank you,” she says, even though I had no hand in Dove getting back up. There’s nothing about Puck that I can take credit for, but I’m proud of her for this. If only I knew the right way to say so.

I shrug, and she reaches out and rests a hand on my arm, “Thank you,” she says again. Her hand is warm, so warm that I can feel it even beneath my jacket, and I’m about to cover her hand with my own when I hear footsteps heading towards the stall.

Puck snatches her hand back like she’s been burned, and when Gabe leans over the door to the stall we’re both standing on opposite sides of Dove, not looking at each other.

“She’s up,” Puck says, her face radiant. “Gabe, I think she’s going to be okay.”

“That’s great,” Gabe says, but his eyes are on me, not his sister, and I think back to the way he had watched when Tommy and I had talked earlier. There’s an accusation in his gaze, but I’m not sure what it is. “Kate,” he says, “I’ll be home late tonight.”

Her mouth purses, and she glances over at me before shrugging. “Nothing out of the ordinary, then.”

Gabe’s eyes narrow, and it seems like they’re having an unspoken conversation between this one, some forgotten language that only they speak. Gabe nods, and without any warning turns and leaves.

I want to ask Puck about her brother, but her hands are holding onto Dove’s mane so tight that her knuckles are white and I know it’s not the time. “Kate?” I say, and Puck grimaces.

“Don’t call me that,” she says. She pauses, fiddling with a strand of Dove’s mane, before continuing, “It’s what my parents used to call me. It’s the only thing I really have left of them.”

I wonder what it means that Gabe calls her that too, apparently, but some things are better left unsaid. I nod and run a hand down Dove’s neck. Already, her breathing has evened out.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Puck says. She isn’t looking at me when she asks, and I try not to attribute anything to it.

“Only on Corr,” I say, which is the truth. Holly offered me a lesson on Edana, but I would have to watch Corr on the other side of the fence while I did it, painfully close but also painfully far away.

Puck stills, and it’s only in the absence of her motion that I realize she’s rarely still. I think I’d like to find out what she’s like when she stops rushing from one thing to another. Here, with Dove, is the closest I’ve seen her to relaxed, and it’s comforting to watch. It feels like trust. “Let’s go see him then,” she says. “I need to pick up some medicine for Dove anyways.”

“Okay,” I say.

Puck and I groom and bridle Chester in silence, and I think about how this is a different kind of intimacy than whatever that moment in the stall had been earlier. This is quieter, harder to find. She mounts from the fence and I slide behind her. I hesitate for a moment before putting my arms around her, and she exhales, quietly, when I do it. I don’t think I was meant to hear it, and it makes me smile.

She presses her legs to Chester’s sides and as he walks, she relaxes minutely against me. We spend most of the ride to Brightfield in silence, but it feels like we’re talking, even without words. The wind on the moors picks up and I tuck her hair into her collar. She shivers, and I lean forward so that she can hear me, “Sorry. Your hair.”

Puck nods, and we continue on. The ride seems like it’s over in an instant, but I know it’s at least a half hour ride, probably more since we walked the whole way. We finally reach the bottom field, and Corr is grazing alone.

I slide down off of Chester and call to him, and he spins and rushes towards the gate so quickly that I worry he might hurt himself. I stroke his face, and he turns to regard me with his good eye. “Shhh,” I say, like the sea, and I see Puck look at me out of the corner of my eye. I can’t read her expression, and I’m about to turn and ask her what it means when I hear a shout.

“Hey, you!” I turn, expecting Mutt to tell me off, but relax when I see that it’s only Tommy.

“Oh,” he says, halting his black mare a few feet away from us. “It’s just you. Hey Puck. Kendrick.”

His voice is warm when he says my last name, and I look at his horse instead of him. I don’t know what expression his face will hold if I look at him just then, and I don’t want to find out. “Tommy,” I say.

He laughs, “Good talk. I’ll see you.”

“Wait,” I say, unbuckling my helmet and handing it to Puck, whose expression has soured. I don’t want to think about what that means either. “I’ll walk with you,” I say to Tommy. “Puck.”

“Sean,” she says. The corner of my mouth lifts and she softens, “Talk to you later.”

As I walk away with Tommy, I glance back over my shoulder at Corr once more and realize that his tail is braided. “Did Mutt do his tail?” I ask, simply because I can’t imagine Mutt Malvern taking the time to braid a horse’s tail, especially one that he’s only working with to spite me.

Tommy purses his lips, “No. I don’t know who did.”

That’s when the disquieting feeling in my gut starts, and it doesn’t go away the rest of the evening. “Keep him in tonight,” I say.

He drums his fingers against his saddle, “Maybe. I’ll ask Holly, but I don’t think he’ll go for it.”

-

I find Jonathan and Brian later and ask if they know who braided Corr’s tail, but neither of them do. I still can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, and Brian looks just as uneasy.

“We could stay here tonight,” he says. “Keep watch. Just in case.”

Jonathan scowls, “Do we have to? I don’t know what the two of you are worrying about, he’ll be fine. Corr’s half-wild; no one’s going to be able to take him without a fight.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be careful,” Brian says.

I nod, “No, it doesn’t.”

“Then it’s settled,” Brian says. Jonathan rolls his eyes and makes a token protest about how he doesn’t want to sleep in the hay loft, but I know that he’ll agree to this. He’ll do whatever his brother does, even if he’ll complain the whole time.

That night, the three of us sneak back into the barn and set up camp in the hay bales, spreading out sleeping bags and picking at the snacks Brian brought from his house. Jonathan talks most of the time, and I tune him out, watching Corr’s shape in the field. I know Tommy tried to talk to Holly, but part of me is annoyed that he didn’t do a better job in convincing him of the urgency of this. If Tommy had just used the right words, we wouldn’t have had to worry about Corr at all.

Hours pass, and Jonathan and Brian drift off to sleep. I’d like to join them, but if something happened to Corr I would never be able to live with myself. Keeping him safe is worth one sleepless night. Just when I’m about to call it a night, something happens.

A sound, from across the field, of a truck pulling down the lane. It’s probably nothing, but it’s late, and the back roads here are rarely used at all. I’m shaking Brian and Jonathan awake before I can think it through any further, and rushing down towards Corr before either of them are fully awake. By the time I get there, the gate is already open, and there’s three figures in the field.

“Corr!” I shout, and he keens, so loud that it hurts my ears even from across the field.

I sprint towards them and jump on the man closest to Corr, pulling him away. At the sight of me, Corr starts to fight back even more, rearing and kicking out and the men. The encounter only lasts a few seconds, and when they see Brian and Jonathan hurrying behind me they start to run. I grab Corr’s lead rope and hold him, my hand tight on his halter. We’re both breathing heavily, and my ribs hurt from where one of them kicked me, but we’re both alive. We’re both safe.


	6. Horse Thief Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry updates have been so irregular; we should be back on track after this!

Puck

  
Sean's the new hero of the island.    
  
It's on the mouths of everybody in the barn, whispered across stalls, over the backs of horses, from behind doors, but when I think of Sean, I don't think of him saving Corr. I think, instead, of his hands, linked around my waist as we rode Chester across the island. Of his voice in my ear.    
  
"Puck!" Mutt snaps over the stall door. "Get to work!"   
  
I jump guiltily, startling out of my daydream and opening my mouth for excuses, but Mutt is already gone.    
  
Then I remember Sean leaving with Tommy.    
  
"His business is not mine to care about," I say to Bob, Jonathan's piebald cob, and brush off my thoughts. Bob blinks at me through long lashes as I finish up his stall and step outside, making sure to latch the stall securely. Jonathan hasn't been riding very much lately, and Bob's been getting bored. When Bob's bored, there's trouble.    
  
"Aye, Bob! Puck!" Jonathan is suddenly there, hands in his pockets and grin sheepish. "How's he?"    
  
"I wouldn't know," I say icily. I'm not feeling much fondness towards him at the moment, not after my night in the jail cell. Brian's behind him, and my gaze finds his. He shrugs apologetically.    
  
"Well, I haven't had much time for him lately," Jonathan explains, as if I care. He extends a hand towards Bob, letting the cob bump it, and then glances at Brian. "You'll look after him today, right?"    
  
I heft my wheelbarrow up and walk away. This is none of my concern. But I do head Brian reply, "of course," and have to hide my grin. Bob will be loose within the next ten minutes.    
  
"Whoa!"    
  
Suddenly, Sean is there, nearly tripping over my wheelbarrow. I stop short and nearly fall myself, halted only by his hand on my shoulder. It slips down to my wrist.    
  
"Sorry," I say, a little too quickly. "I didn't see you there."    
  
"I just-" he looks over his shoulder, at Corr's stall. "Was checking on him. But-"    
  
"He's in the pasture."    
  
"Oh." We stare at each other for a moment, and I feel a heartbeat where my wrist presses against his. I'm not sure who it belongs to. Then he clears his throat and drops his hand, but not his gaze. "How's Dove?"    
  
"Do- Dove. Yes. She's been standing most of the night, and listening to the radio." His mouth quirks. "I think it's really helping a lot."    
  
"I'm glad to hear it."    
  
Then there's commotion from the Carrol brothers. "The horse thief hero!" Jonathan crows joyfully, pushing past me to clasp Sean's hand in his own. "Gracing us with our presence!"    
  
Brian is there too, not as excited as Jonathan but still all motion and no stillness, sweeping Sean away with their chatter. For a moment, a breath, Sean looks back at me.    
  
"Thanks for yesterday," he says, so quietly that I would have thought I'd imagined it, except I can't imagine why I'd imagine Sean Kendrick thanking me. And then he's gone.   
  
*****   
  
Mutt’s new horse is a breath of fresh air.    
  
He's not awful like Skata, or uncontrollable like Corr. Instead, he unloads quietly from the trailer, leads into his stall without ripping off my hands, and stands quietly in a corner while I bed down his shavings. I can't complain about the horse.    
  
"But why?" I ask Daly, who's there to supervise the whole thing while Mutt is off doing whatever else he does when he's not trying to lord over me. "He still has Skata and Corr."    
  
Daly looks at me like I've lost my head. I don't usually mind him too much- he's a bit daft, and awful around Mutt, but he's quiet. "Skata isn't here anymore, and Corr is- Corr."   
  
"Well." I stab my pitchfork irately into the bedding. "They're still searching for Skata."   
  
Daly sighs, but it's Mutt’s voice that arches over the stall door. "Shows how little you know, stable hand. Skata is long gone, and we're better off forgetting about her. I've moved onto bigger and better horses, anyways. The county show is coming up."    
  
He lets himself into the stall, shooting me a dark look, and strides over to his gray gelding. "It's Electric."    
  
"What?" Daly asks, because I'm not about to.    
  
Mutt shoots him an imperious look. "It's his show name. Loads better than- oh, what do they call that creature? Bob. All the show horses on the circuits have show names. I wouldn't expect you to know."    
  
I had known.    
  
Mutt laughs and Daly smiles half-heartedly as I heft the wheelbarrow up and left the stall, already tiring of the day. Three stables left and then it was onto bigger and better chores, like lunging the clients horses, and they weren't much better. The whole lot of them were pushy and rude, coddled show ponies.     
  
My bad mood only darkens when I look towards Holly’s office. Bob is standing halfway in it, up to no good no doubt. If he destroys it while I was around, surely I'll be in trouble. I storm over to him and shove at his haunches. "Move, you fat-"    
  
"He's okay, Puck. I'm keeping an eye on him."    
  
I glance over Bob's broad back to see Brian sitting at Holly’s desk, organizing, raising a single eyebrow at me. I force a smile, giving Bob an apologetic pat. The cob snuffles hopefully at my hands for treats, reminding me with a pang of Dove when she wasn't sick. "Oh, well, in that case-"    
  
"Holly also told me to tell you that he got some more sedatives in if you need any. Do you know anything about that?" He asks, looking hopeful. Wanting an explanation for my night in prison.    
  
Heat crawls up my neck. "Yes," I say shortly, and step out of the office without further reply, leaving Brian sitting there with his hopefulness. I don't owe him an explanation for the dealings between Holly and I.    
  
I freeze.    
  
Sean and Corr are in the courtyard, Sean on Corr's back, leaning over and rubbing his neck. The words are out of my mouth before I can help it- "Sean, you-"    
  
He glances at me, and there's a massive crash somewhere in the back of the stables. Corr rears straight up, striking at the sky, and Sean's attention flips forwards, onto the chestnut, and he's got the bit between his teeth and is bolting down the road, a streak of copper. Without even thinking, I'm springing towards Chester's stables- there's no way Sean can control him. He needs help.    
  
But then Tommy's black mare surges between the stable blocks, Tommy bent low on her back. "Get Holly," he growls, and the mare is bounding after Corr. She's nothing like the horse Sean is on, but she's faster than Chester, and Tommy is a fine rider, so I let my hand drop from Chester's door even as the gelding inside whickers, excited at the prospect of getting out. I watch Tommy ride after Sean, and there's a funny taste in my mouth that reminds me of when Gabe would be allowed an extra hour before bedtime and Finn and I were shunted to our rooms to sleep. I don't like it.    
  
Brian's next to me, watching the whole thing, mouth slightly parted in surprise. I wonder, for whatever reason, if he's here for something other than watching the action.    
  
"Where's Holly?" I ask, tipping my head up to him. He glances down on me, and then his gaze skips away, warily looking at something else.    
  
"I don't know," he answers, tone so cautious that I turn to see what he's looking at. It's Mutt, frozen in his new horse's stall. Something cruel and grim spins in his expression as he watches Tommy canter away. A shiver traces its way down my spine.    
  
Whatever happens next to Sean Kendrick, it won't be pleasant.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to the end every day y'all! Next up after this: pony prom!
> 
> EDIT: reposted because I was in a rush and forgot to copy over the last scene!

Sean

He isn’t going to stop. When Corr takes off from Brightfield with me, a part of me is furious. I should have been able to stop before he got away from me like this. My hands work uselessly at the reins as Corr runs, flying across the dirt path down towards the beach. I used to ride thoroughbreds, and I didn’t know a horse could be this fast. 

At the sight of the ocean, Corr’s gallop becomes even faster, each stride plunging him closer towards the waves. It feels like I’m watching this happen to someone else, someone who’s going to end up drowned soon if I don’t do anything.

I don’t want to see the satisfaction on Mutt’s face when I turn back up at Brightfield, empty handed and soaking wet. “Corr,” I say, but the wind whisks his name away before it has any effect. I’m twelve again, watching one of the exercise riders calm down a racehorse. Although the stallion has the bit in his teeth and is straining as fast as he can go, the rider is calm, a statue. I don’t see his hands move, don’t see any indication that he’s doing anything, but inch by inch, the horse slows down, and when the rider halts him there’s a small, satisfied grin on his face.

I take a deep breath and reach my hands forward, tying knots in Corr’s mane. Three, seven, three. He doesn’t come back to me, but he settles, and he feels more like a horse underneath me than a wild thing trying desperately to get away. I keep tying knots, whisper things into the wind that I hope Corr hears before they get carried away, and inch by inch, he comes back to me.

He’s knee-deep in the water, and trembling, so much so that I can feel it even on his back. It feels like the first day I met him, half-wild on the beach and yearning for the sea. I would trade everything I have to understand him.

I slide off him, the surf soaking into my breeches immediately. I cluck at Corr and start to back up, towards the sand, but it’s as if he’s rooted there. He turns to regard me with his good eye, but he hardly seems to see me. Every inch of him is focused on the sea, and it the seconds before I get him to take a halting step forward are long.

I don’t know what would happen if I couldn’t get him to move. I don’t know why the sea is where he goes when he’s afraid, or why the touch of the water on his skin makes him flinch.

“Corr,” I say again, and he follows me onto the sand.

When Tommy arrives on his black mare, Corr’s still craning his neck to look away from me, out to the sea.

-

Tommy doesn’t say a word to me on the way back to the barn, just nods jerkily at the sight of Corr and I, safe and sound, and then walks back next to us on his mare. The silence is unnerving, coming from him, and he keeps starting to say something, making half formed sounds that die in the air before they finish leaving his mouth.

We’re almost back to Brightfield when he clears his throat, “Are you hurt?”

I tell him that I’m not and he nods, his expression still blank. I’m not used to thinking of Tommy as unreadable, what with his wide smile and easy laugh, but there’s something in his eyes that I don’t follow.

When we reach Brightfield and dismount, he turns to put his mare away without a second glance. I see Mutt, watching us across the barn, and despite the fact that I came back unharmed and still on Corr, he looks pleased. Puck walks up to me not long after, eyeing Corr warily.

“Is he alright?” She asks, and I feel a rush of kinship with her for asking after Corr before me. It makes me think of her face pressed against Dove’s neck, and I nod.

“We’re both fine,” I say, touching Corr’s neck lightly.

“Holly will want to talk to you when he gets back,” she says, cutting her gaze away from mine before I can meet her eyes. She fiddles with the sleeves of her sweater, almost as if she’s cross with it. Knowing Puck, she probably is. “I’m glad you’re not hurt,” she says, finally, before walking away.

I watch her go, and only later think that I should have said something back. I put Corr away after she leaves, and for once he’s calm and agreeable. As I latch the stall door behind him and head home, I catch one last glimpse of Mutt, and know I’ll have to answer to him and his father’s order not to ride Corr in the coming days.

-

The next morning, when I arrive at Brightfield, Holly is waiting for me outside Corr’s stall, with a man I can only assume is Benjamin Malvern. He looks both nothing and everything like Mutt: same mouth, same way of holding himself like he knows better, but there’s something in his gaze that’s sharp, unflinching.

“Mr. Kendrick,” he says, extending a hand.

I shake it, “Mr. Malvern.”

Holly’s mouth quirks, “We understand Corr took off with you yesterday.”

This is it. Holly’s going to tell me he wants me nowhere near his stables after this. “He came back to me,” I say.

“Yes, we understand that as well,” Mr. Malvern says. “My son told me that you were inexperienced and were a danger to Corr.”

I want to tell him that Mutt’s the one who’s a danger to Corr, but I say nothing and meet his gaze. I don’t think there are any excuses I could make that would changed Benjamin Malvern’s opinion of me.

“My son could not have calmed that horse down,” he says, “but you did.” He pauses, and my heartbeat quickens. “You can ride Corr all you like,” he says, “so long as you keep riding him like that.”

I thank him and Holly before heading off to grab Corr’s tack. My blood is singing in my veins, and I’m already imagining going that breathlessly fast once more. Tommy’s in there already, and he looks up when I come in.

“Kendrick,” he says, and whatever brusqueness he’d had on the beach the other day is gone.

“They’re letting me ride Corr,” I say, and he grins.

“I know,” he says. “I told them what happened.” I don’t say anything for a moment, and he shifts, looking down at his feet, “It wasn’t right, that Mutt could ride him and not you. Mutt wouldn’t ever have been able to settle Corr like that.”

“Thank you,” I say, and he shrugs the words off almost before they’re done leaving my mouth.

“It was nothing,” he says, and turns to leave. At the door, he pauses, looking back towards me, “Hey, has anyone told you about the barn dance?”

“Jonathan mentioned it,” I say, as if he hasn’t been prattling on about it for the past week.

Tommy nods, “Are you going with anyone?”

I don’t want to go at all, but every second I spend at the barn is one less I have to be at home with my mother. “Jonathan and Brian.”

Tommy readjusts his grip on the saddle, “Cool,” he says. “I’ll see you there then?”

I nod, and Tommy starts to say something else, then shakes his head. “Talk to you later, Kendrick.”

-

Later, after I ride Corr and put him away, Brian comes up to me and tells me there’s something he needs me to see. “It’s important,” he hisses, “Jonathan doesn’t even know yet.”

That gets my attention more than anything else. Brian and Jonathan may be nothing alike, but there’s no secrets between the two of them. Brian pulls me behind the stables, away from everyone else, and pulls a photograph out of his pocket.

“I was cleaning out Holly’s office the other day,” he says, “and I found this in his desk.”

The photograph is old, folded in half and well-worn. Even so, the sight of it takes my breath away. This changes everything.

I have to go talk to Puck.

-

When I get to Puck’s house, the yard is quiet aside from a cat peering distrustfully out at me from behind a pile of scrap metal. She looks as though she's been through a war, missing the tip of her tail, and wags the tip of it warningly when I step too close. I ignore her and head back towards the shipping container I know Dove is in, the photograph Brian gave me heavy in my pocket.

Dove is standing when I get there, although her head is low to the ground and she looks listless. Puck’s brushing her off, but turns when she hears me.

“How is she?” I ask.

Puck smiles, one of the few true smiles I’ve seen from her. “Better. Still off her feed, but she’s at least eating some of it now.”

I let myself into the stall and stroke Dove’s nose. “Where’s Corr from?” If I ask her outright, maybe she’ll tell me. She might not have been keeping it from me on purpose.

She turns back towards the mare, “No idea. Why?”

I pull the photograph of her standing next to Corr as a colt, both of them looking younger and less worn. “I know you owned him as a foal.”

She turns back towards me and brushes a stray piece of her red hair out of face. “So what?”

I can’t believe she didn’t tell me. Puck is one of the few people here who I know how to act around, and she’s the only one who understands what Corr means to me. “You didn’t tell me,” I say.

She purses her lips and crosses her arms, a declaration in itself. She didn’t tell me before, and she’s not going to now. “I think you should go.”

There a thousand things I want to say to her, but none of them will come out. I turn and leave the stall, only to be stopped by Gabe Connolly.

“Sean Kendrick,” he says, “I think we need to have a talk.”

He ends up in Dove’s stall with Puck and I, leaning against the door impassively while Puck and I stand by Dove. “It was a few years after our parents died,” he says, “and there’d been storms for weeks. When it was finally calm, I went down to the beach to see if the sea had washed anything up.” He pauses and laces his fingers together, “I didn’t think I’d come back with a foal.”

“Corr,” I say.

“Puck shouldn’t have named him,” he says, and Puck scoffs from Dove’s other side. “I thought someone would come looking,” Gabe continues, “but no one ever did.” He’s quiet for a moment, the only sound in the crate Dove’s soft, even breathing. “This crate washed up near where I found him. I think he came to the island inside of it.”

I can’t imagine it, being trapped in this thing at sea. Corr’s fascination with the ocean makes sense now, the way he ran to the beach when he bolted and when I first found him.

“We weren’t going to sell him,” Gabe says, “but we needed the money. Finn and Kate and I had nothing, and Dove is more useful than a half wild horse washed up from the ocean.”

He’s so practical about it, detached and cool whereas next to me Puck’s face looks pinched. Gabe clears his throat, “Now you know,” he says, then unlatches the stall, leaving Puck and I alone with Dove.

Puck fiddles with Dove's mane. “Now you know,” she echoes.

“It didn't have to be a secret.” 

She doesn't look at me. There's a worried crease between her eyes, and I realize that I see her with it more often than not. This life, without her parents, is harder on her than she lets on. 

She needs a break from it. 

I clear my throat. “Are you- are you going to the barn dance?” 

The words are out before I can really consider them properly. The barn dance? Jonathan and Brian had barely convinced me to go. I'm still unsure about it myself. And now I'm about to-

What am I about to do? 

Puck looks up from Dove. “The barn dance?” She repeats, dubious. As though she's never considered going. Maybe she's not allowed.

“Would you go with me?” 

That's what I'm about to do. 

Puck doesn't respond for awhile. I cough, searching for more words, but they're not there. Wherever direction this conversation goes is up to Puck. And then she nods- it's more of a dip of her chin than anything else. But her eyes are fierce, questioning, on mine. “Yes,” she says, softly. “I think I'd like that.” 


	8. Pony Prom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late! Both of us forgot it was Thursday yesterday hah

PUCK

  
I've been at work for a long time before Mutt approaches me.    
  
There's a lot to do. Holly wants the entire yard spotless for the barn dance, I have my usual chores, and I want to finish early so I can go home and get dressed for it.    
  
There's still a funny taste of disbelief in my mouth when I think of Sean in Dove's stall, asking me if I'll come. He's the first to ever see me as more than just the stablehand, and I'm hopeful, maybe... this might change things.    
  
Gabe wasn't too thrilled, of course. "Watch out for that Kendrick boy," he said grimly over tea this morning. "There's something funny about him, even Tommy has mentioned it."   
  
"Mentioned it, or mentioned him?" I had said sharply, refusing to feel guilty when Gabe had pushed back his chair and abandoned his tea without further reply. Finn looked at me as though I'd done wrong, but I know he doesn't mind the dance- Holly has asked him to bring over some cupcakes.    
  
I muck faster. That's another thing I have to do before it starts, I consider irritably.    
  
"Puck." It's Mutt, looking over the stall door at me. He's wearing riding clothes for once, and I can bet that he's been jumping the hell out of that gray and wants me to cool it down now. I press my lips together and duck my head, concentrating on sifting through the bedding. "I heard Kendrick asked you to the dance."    
  
Oh. Not what I was expecting. "At least you're using your ears for once, rather than your mouth."    
  
"And you don't think it's a little odd, the stable's rising star asking the stablehand out?" Mutt’s settling himself on the door, quite comfortably. He means to be here awhile.    
  
I shoot him a glare. I don't have time for this nonsense. "He's... a friend."    
  
"A friend who feels sorry for you. He told me that he only asked you because he thinks you need something in your life beyond this miserable yard."    
  
"I don't have time for this." I'm done with the stall and done with Mutt, so I stab my pitchfork into the wheelbarrow and try to shove past him. He doesn't budge, and neither does the door. I'm trapped.    
  
"You'll have time, because I doubt you'll want to go to the dance. Don't you have to take care of your sick mare?"    
  
Oh.    
  
So this is why he's so smug- because he's telling the truth. Sean really did talk to him. He and Holly were the only ones who knew about Dove, and Holly would never tell.    
  
Mutt studies my face, and nods to himself. "I think I'm done here." He slides off the stall door and leaves me standing there, frozen with my wheelbarrow.    
  
So that's it. I'm just a pity case for Kendrick.    
  
Anger burns in my chest, but there's something else burning down my throat and behind my eyes. I really had thought he was a friend, had been beginning to hope...   
  
"It doesn't matter now," I say furiously to myself, and swipe at my eyes. I'll not shed any tears over an idiot boy.    
  
"What doesn't matter?"    
  
It's Sean, leaning up against the stall door where Mutt was only moments earlier, looking in politely. He has some nerve.    
  
"You," I snap, and the ferocity in my voice leaves him looking stunned, and maybe a little bewildered. But when I shove against the stall door, he doesn't trap me in like Mutt does. Merely steps back, confused, and lets me out. "And forget about the dance."    
  
"Puck?" His voice is uncertain. "Kate?"    
  
"Don't call me that." And then I'm gone, and he's not coming after me, though some small part of me had hoped he would. I must be the island's biggest fool.    
  
I go to Holly. Surely he'll let me leave early, to help Finn with the cupcakes.    
  
*****   
  
"What about your dress?" Finn is asking.    
  
"What?" I'm daydreaming, or trying not to. Either way, I'm not paying attention, and get icing across my hands. Finn eyes me crossly as I lick it off.    
  
"Your dress," he repeats. "Surely you're not going like that."    
  
It slowly dawns on me that he still thinks I'm going to the dance. I'm not sure why- I haven't showered, and I'm still wearing riding clothes from when I took Chester for a much-needed gallop. "I'm not going at all," I tell him, studiously avoiding his gaze and looking at his collar instead. The shirt he's wearing is one of his nicer ones. "Wait, where do you think you're going in that? To deliver cupcakes?"    
  
He stares at me.    
  
"Not the dance?"    
  
"Holly invited me," he mutters, shoving the rest of the cupcakes he's holding into my hands and leaving me there on the doorstep with them. For whatever reason, he and Holly are inordinately fond of each other, discussing baking and cars and whatever whimsy has caught their fancy over dinner. Sometimes I think Finn is the reason I still have my job.    
  
He returns, balancing a box in one hand and something made of cloth in another. I recognize my dress. "I'm not going to the dance alone."    
  
"Well, I-"    
  
He hasn't gone out of his way to socialize at all since our parent's death. This is a first for him. And, I realize, me as well. Maybe this will be good for us.    
  
As long as I don't see Sean.    
  
"Fine." I shove the cupcakes back into his arms, seize the dress, and stalk into the house to change.    
  
I keep my boots on.    
  
"That's better," Finn says when I emerge, even though I'm not in my dress. My mood is too foul to want to deal with tripping over myself, so I've settled for a clean pair of black pants and a cleverly cut teal blouse that matches my eyes when the weather is nice. It doesn't match tonight. "Now can we go?"    
  
"I wasn't stopping you," I say, but somehow we manage to wrestle the cupcakes into the eternally dying car. It's a miracle Gabe doesn't have it for once. "Where is he, anyways?"    
  
"Gabe?" Finn chews on his lip. "Tommy came and picked him up awhile ago."    
  
"Is this whole island going to be at the dance, then?"    
  
He wisely doesn't respond.    
  
Of course, the car breaks down before we've even left the yard. It breaks down again, on the side of the road, and it's dark by the time we get to Brightfield and why have we bothered to bring the cupcakes, because at this rate the riders will have turned to drink. I know I'm tempted to.    
  
"We're here," Finn says happily.    
  
I don't respond, merely kicking the door open- does nothing we own work?- and stepping out, handing off the cupcakes to my brother. His eyes are sparkling as he looks towards the stables- it's dark, but rainbow lights are flashing and I can hear cheesy pop music and laughter inside. Some of my anger melts away. It's not Finn's fault that Sean is a feck, and I shouldn't let him stop me from enjoying myself. The Connollys are not a pity party.    
  
"Let's do this," I say.    
  
Finn takes a deep breath and nods, and follows me into the party with his fourteen thousand cupcakes.    
  
It's already in full swing. Riders are dancing, chatting, laughing. I don't see Sean or the Carrol brothers anywhere, but my gaze finds Gabe right away, leaning over the punch bowl with Tommy, smirking at something he's said. There's Holly, chatting up one of the few adult riders here, and he catches my eye and smiles widely, waving at me and Finn. "There," Finn says.    
  
I don't have anybody else to talk to, so I follow him across the room, taking a box off his hands so I have something to do. "Connollys," Holly greets us in his broad accent. "Have you met Annie? She's one of the cops who's been working on Skata's case."    
  
She looks vaguely familiar, and vaguely dreamy as she smiles at Holly, a cup dangling from her hands. "Yes, it's been an interesting one, that's for sure. We're no closer to solving it than-"   
  
There's an uproar near the door of the stables. It's too dark to see, too crowded to try to, but then there's three figures cutting through towards us in flashes of red and purple and blue disco light. The chatter follows them as they reach us.    
  
My stomach drops. It's Sean, of course, wearing an oddly handsome suit that's more suitable for a funeral than a party. His eyes meet mine over Finn's head, and he looks a little hurt, but then he's elbowed aside by Jonathan. "We caught the horse thief!"    
  
Holly drops a cupcake he'd been admiring. "What?"    
  
Finn and I are shunted backwards as the brothers and Sean begin to explain in a tangle of stories- ghost ponies, nets, trucks and trailers and hay, the photographer. Annie asks a few, terse questions, then looks at Holly. "I'll need to go."    
  
"Of course, of course," he says, and then she's gone.    
  
Finn's disappeared to go set up cupcakes, and I'm left alone on the outside of their circle. From the sound of it, the photographer was the horse thief, and case closed. They'll have Skata home in no time.    
  
Somewhere over the sound of discussion, Sean catches my eye again. He offers me a small smile, a rare gift, but I'm not in the mood to appreciate it. I need air.    
  
Somebody catches at my elbow as I turn away- Finn, maybe, or Gabe, but I shrug them off and push my way outside. Though it's summer, the nights around here are cold, and there's the heavy feeling of rain in the air. It's not a nice night to be outside.    
  
But there's the sound of horses making their way through their hay, and the rhythmic kicking of Corr in his stall, and the familiarity of it all makes me feel a bit better.    
  
"Can we talk?"    
  
It's Sean, of course. I don't turn to look at him, but he's next to me, and I hate myself for being so aware of his presence. He's put his usual jacket on, collar up, and that alone makes him feel more familiar than the Sean inside with the suit.    
  
Familiar? I don't know him. "You can."    
  
He won't, and he's silent for a long, long time, but I feel his gaze on me, and I realize he's studying me in a way that he never would if there were other people around. He's a private creature, but so am I.    
  
"I don't know what I did wrong."    
  
My voice has gone to the lemons. "Mutt, for starters."    
  
"Mutt?"   
  
"And pitying me, for finishers. I'm not some damsel in distress, a- a Cinderella, who's going to be saved by going to the ball. You don't have to feel sorry for me."    
  
Sean opens his mouth to respond, and there's a great crack overhead. Water falls from the sky like a trough tipped over on its side, readying for scrubbing. Within seconds I'm soaked, and Sean would be if it weren't for his damned jacket. "I'm going inside."    
  
He grabs my wrist as I pass him, and there. His heartbeat, tapping against mine. "Puck," he says, softly, seriously. "I don't pity you."    
  
I close my eyes. But I can't walk away, not when I can feel him like this, and the moment he senses this he drops my wrist, almost apologetically. "Then why tell Mutt you did? Why tell him about Dove?"    
  
"I never did."   
  
"Then how would he know?" I demand. Water is sneaking it's way down my shirt, clinging it to my skin. If I'm lucky, I'll wake up with pneumonia. "The only people I've told are you and Holly."    
  
"Have you considered that it might have been Tommy who told him?"   
  
"How would he- Gabe," I realize, and feel abruptly stupid. Why had I believed Mutt so easily? "Of course."    
  
For a moment we stand there, staring at each other, sopping wet instead of inside enjoying cupcakes, and it's my fault. If I hadn't fallen for Mutt’s words so easily, we would not be here, me freezing and Sean looking more and more like a drowned rat by the moment.    
  
But he's smiling- not with his mouth, but with his eyes, and he slips off his jacket. "This isn't pity," he says. "But- here."    
  
I take it gratefully and shrug it on. I'm no drier, but the memory of his body heat in the jacket helps a bit. "Thank you."    
  
Neither of us move. The party is inconsequential. "You found the horse thieves?"    
  
His expression clears. "One of them, maybe."   
  
"You sound convinced," I observe.   
  
"It's none of the men who tried to steal Corr," he says. Even now, even this close to me, in this pouring rain, he's still thinking about Corr.    
  
"So what are you going to do about it?"    
  
He's close enough that if I close my eyes, I could still sense him there. I do, for a moment, and it's all gentle heat and the shock of frozen rain. "I don't know. I don't know what I want, Puck Connolly."    
  
It's not about wanting, though. I step even closer, tilting my head up, letting the water roll down my face. I could spend my life wanting for everything, but that would never get me anywhere. "It's not about what you want. It's about what you need."    
  
And there's the shape of his chin against mine, his jaw, his lips. He closes his eyes when he kisses me, but I want to see everything.    
  
The lights flicker.    
  
Sean draws away, startled. I can see the purple lights flash across his eyes, and then they're gone again and it's just his silhouette as the stables are plunged into darkness. Somebody screams- no, something. "Corr," he says instantly, and there's something terrible in his voice.    
  
Corr.    
  
Because of course he's right. I'm right on his heels, splashing through the mud, as we rush to where Corr is stabled, but it's too late- the door is swinging wide open. "No, no no." I'm not sure who's saying it, me or him, but Sean rushes into the stall anyways, as though the stallion could be hiding in the corner.    
  
He's not. There's just an empty stall and a neat set of footprints and hoofprints that disappear into the grass.    
  
It's me that finally says it. "He's gone."


	9. The Search

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late - I was sick!
> 
> Only one chapter left after this!

Sean

Being at Brightfield without Corr is unbearable. Everything about it seems dull, meaningless, and when I get to the stables the next day I keep my head down. Holly calls us all for a meeting in the morning, announcing that an officer is here to share details about the horse thieves. I know better than to get my hopes up, but I gather in the yard with everyone else regardless.

“We don’t have any real leads,” the police officer admits. “We have the photographer Kendrick brought in, but there’s not enough to charge him.”

“What do you mean!” Jonathan cries, throwing his hands up, “We saw him!”

“There’s no hard proof he was working with whoever took Corr,” the officer admits in a flat voice. After that, I tune him out, wondering instead where Puck is. She must be at her house still, but the memory of the dance is still heavy on my mind.

The meeting with the officer is shorter than I’d expected, with Holly cutting him off after only a few minutes. His smile looks forced, but he has had two horses from his yard go missing. 

“I know this is a rough time,” Holly says, “but right now we need to focus on the county show tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” Mutt snaps. “I’ve had two horses go missing, and that’s all you care about?”

“I’m sorry,” Holly says, but he’s not looking at Mutt when he says it.

Mutt notices as well and it only makes him more angry. “Don’t apologize to him!” he cries, “Corr’s my horse, not his!”

“We need to focus on the show,” Holly repeats. “I want all of you in my office at one for a meeting to go over the details.”

-

With the rest of the morning stretched out before me, I head to the Connolly’s. I don’t know what to say to Puck after last night, but I know I need to see her. Their home is as quiet as ever when I get there, with the barn cat watching me warily from a fence post.

I ignore her and head to the back, stopping when I see that Dove’s stall is empty. Distantly, I hear a laugh, and follow the sound behind the house. Puck is back there, walking Dove slowly around in the grass. Her face looks lighter than I’ve ever seen it, and I feel a pang of longing for Corr when I watch her and Dove.

“Hey,” I say, and she looks up.

“Sean,” she says, turning and walking Dove up to me. “How are you?”

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” I say, running a hand down Dove’s neck so I don’t have to look at Puck when I say it. “I can’t believe anything about last night.” It’s the wrong thing to say, and I know it the instant it leaves my mouth.

Puck makes a choked noise, “Yeah.”

I tear my gaze away from Puck and look at Dove instead. “She looks better,” I say.

“Yeah,” Puck repeats, shifting next to me.

“The police think he’s long gone,” I say, my thoughts turning back towards Corr. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Keep looking,” Puck says, her voice sharp. “You can’t give up, not when he’s still out there. You’re not yourself if you don’t keep looking.”

“I have no idea where they’d take him,” I say.

Puck sighs heavily, and I know she’s about to lay into me when she reaches out and grabs my arm tightly. “What if they didn’t take him anywhere?” She asks, “Finn says the ferries didn’t run last night, which means-”

There’s that feeling of galloping, of suspension in the air. I feel abruptly awake, as though I had been asleep before, and everything is heightened. The wind sweeping through the yard, Puck’s hand on my arm, the realization that-

“He’s still on the island,” I say.

-

A few hours later, we’ve gotten everyone from the yard gathered on horseback.

“We’re going to have to split up,” Puck says. “Jonathan and Tommy, take the hills. I’ll go with Brian to the cliffs, and Mutt and Daly, check the moors?”

She’s let me decide where I want to go for myself, which I’m grateful for. 

At she finishes speaking, Mutt scoffs. “What, and let Kendrick take all the glory? He just wants to find Corr himself.”

“I don’t care who finds him,” I snap at him, bristling.

“I think Daly and I should check the caves,” Mutt says.

“Go where you want,” Puck snaps, tightening her grip on Chester’s reins. “I don’t care where you go so long as you help search.”

“I will,” Mutt snaps, making eye contact with me.

I know that he means to stick to my side and sigh, “We’ll check the caves together then.”

“Fine,” Mutt says, already turning his mare away.

As I ride off after him and Daly, I meet Puck’s eyes for the last time. She shrugs, and then Chester whirls after Brian’s horse and she’s gone in a gleam of copper.

-

Mutt sets a furious pace ahead of Daly and I, the two of us trailing behind him as we near the caves and the woods surrounding them.

“You don’t really think we’ll find him?” Daly mutters, casting a dark look at me.

I shrug. Being without Corr is painful, but not even bothering to search for him is unthinkable. “We have to try,” I say, and Daly snorts.

“If you say so,” he says.

We ride on in silence, Mutt crashing through the underbrush ahead of us. “Daly!” He snaps after a few minutes, “hurry up!”

The line of Daly’s mouth is tight, but he clucks to his horse and walks faster.

“Why do you let him talk to you like that?” I ask, the words coming out almost unconsciously.

Daly’s mouth curls, “You don’t understand.” I think that’s all he’s going to say, but as we continue after Mutt he speaks up again. “His father’s never around, you know. Mutt has ribbons and horses, but he doesn’t have a family. His parents divorced a long time ago, and he barely talks to his father. I’m all he has.” Daly sounds proud about being the only person in Mutt’s life, but I don’t understand it. My family is just as broken as Mutt’s and I don’t speak like that to my friends.

As we enter the woods I push the thoughts out of my head, focusing instead on looking for Corr. I’m not sure how much time passes before I realize the sky is starting to grow darker. “We should head back,” I say.

Daly nods and starts to turn his horse. “No!” Mutt snaps, looking furious, “Sean’s just saying that because he wants to find Corr first!”

“This isn’t a competition,” I snap. “This storm is going to be bad, and we need to get back.”

“You’ve barely been here two months!” Mutt shouts, “You have no idea how anything on this island works!” The wind picks up as he’s talking, stealing the words out of his mouth. “Everything was fine before you showed up and ruined it all!”

“What was there to ruin?” I ask. “Your father didn’t speak to you before; it’s not my fault he trusts me with Corr more than you.”

Mutt’s face goes blank, and he surges towards Daly, “What did you say?”

Daly looks at me, panic displayed on every inch of his face. “Nothing! He tricked me!”

Mutt shakes his head and whirls his mare around, taking off into the darkness. I swear under my breath and gather up Edana’s reins, urging her forward. Daly starts forwards, but his horse is a wreck and his riding is even worse. “Head back to Brightfield!” I hurl towards him. “I’ll handle Mutt!”

In the darkness of the woods, the only sound is the quiet rumbling of thunder. The storm is coming back in, and I don’t doubt that it will be bad.

“Mutt!” I shout, but his name feels stilted even as I shout it. It’s hard to see beyond the circle of trees I’m in, and no matter how I strain my ears, there’s no other sound. There’s an instant where I think I hear hoofbeats, and I turn Edana towards them, blindly urging her forward. “Mutt!” I shout again, but there’s no answer.

It hasn’t started raining yet, but the air is thick with an oncoming storm. The sky is darkening, and I can feel the temperature starting to drop. Mutt and I need to get out of here, soon.

Hoofbeats sound again, louder this time, and as I turn Edana, Mutt and his mare come hurtling out of the woods towards us. Mutt’s eyes are wide, and his hands jerk at the reins when he sees me. His mare is slower to react though, and turns abruptly to avoid running into Edana. Mutt doesn’t follow her, coming off to the side and landing in a heap on the ground. His mare whinnies and Edana shys backwards, away from the sound. Mutt’s horse neighs again before spinning around and galloping off, back towards Brightfield.

On the ground, Mutt doesn’t say anything at first, but as the seconds tick slowly by he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Come to gloat, Kendrick?” he asks, but his voice is devoid of the usual acidity. He tries to stand but cries out, sinking back to the ground.

“Your leg?” I ask, and he nods. I’m debating what to say next when I hear the sound of hoofbeats again. I glance towards the way back to Brightfield, but there’s nothing.

“Did you hear that?” Mutt’s eyes are wide.

The hoofbeats sound again, closer this time, and through the trees I think I see a dim outline of something moving. Unbidden, Jonathan’s rantings about Ghost Pony come to mind, and I push them away angrily. Ghosts aren’t real, and even if they were, I’m not afraid of them.

But either way, there’s something in the trees, and I don’t think it’s Daly or anyone from the barn come back to save us.

The rain starts to fall just as Skata steps out from the trees. Her piebald coat is filthy, clumps of dirt ground into her normally glowing white fur. Even the black of her coat looks off, and there’s burrs in her mane and tail. She seems larger than I remember, her lips curling backwards to bare her teeth at us.

She looks monstrous, like a horror story come to life.

Her and Mutt seem to recognize each other at the same time, and in the next instant she’s a horse once more. “Skata?” He whispers, his voice rough.

The piebald mare stomps one of her front hooves, and he chokes back a laugh. Skata takes another step closer, then another, stopping at his side.

I’ve never hated someone the way I hate Mutt Malvern. Before this summer, I wouldn’t have thought it was possible to detest another person this much. But in the pouring rain, with his arms streaked with mud and his ankle swollen, hating him seems like a waste of time. I slide off of Edana and close a hand Mutt’s arm.

“Come on,” I choke out from gritted teeth.

Mutt looks up at me and something akin to disgust flits over his face. “What are you doing, Kendrick?”

I scowl, “Something I’m going to regret.”

-

By the time we make it back to the barn, the storm is clearing and the sun shines down, liquid gold lighting up the grass. The island looks brighter than it had before, the colors richer than I remembered. The ride back to the barn wasn’t as terrible as I had thought it would be, since Mutt kept his mouth shut for once. Skata was more of a problem than he was; her stint as an island horse hasn’t calmed her temper at all.

It seems like a miracle that both of them make it back to Brightfield in one piece, and I know it’s largely thanks to Edana’s quiet nature. She’s a good mare, and if not for Corr I could imagine being fond of her.

Thinking of Corr makes my chest ache, knowing that we didn’t find him and that he’s still out there, somewhere. As Mutt and I ride down the path to the stable, the others just visible in the barnyard, Corr is the only thing on my mind. I don’t ask any of them about him as I slide off of Edana and pull Mutt down next to me, but one look at their blank faces tells me that none of them found him, either.

“Mutt’s hurt,” I say, turning towards his father.

Malvern looks speechless, rubbing a hand over his jaw before nodding slowly. “I see you found Skata,” he says.

I nod and turn my head to look for Puck. As if summoned by my thoughts, she’s there, reaching for the mare. “I’ll take Skata.”

I press the lead rope into her hand, letting my touch linger for longer than I should. I’m still cold from the storm, my jacket not doing much after the time spent in the rain. Her hand is warm against mine, and I can’t help but think of the barn dance, the moment before we realized Corr was missing.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find him,” she whispers, so soft that I know it was only meant for me.

There aren’t words to make Corr’s absence bearable. “I know,” I say, and let go of my grip on her hand.

The corner of her mouth quirks upward and she turns towards the others. “Someone get Holly and tell him to call the vet,” she says. “Skata needs to get looked over.”

At my side, Edana huffs out a quiet breath and I clap a hand against her shoulder. She more than proved her worth today, and I’m grateful in a way I can’t put into words. Slowly, the others disperse, to call Holly or check on Mutt or off to do any number of things, until I’m left with only Tommy.

He’s been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time, and his face is twisted in a way I don’t understand. “Are you hurt?” He asks, voice strained, and I realize the expression on his face is worry.

“No,” I say. “Just Mutt.”

Tommy lets out a breath and his face clears slightly. “You’re soaked,” he says, smiling a little, “Give me Edana and go put on something dry.”

I hesitate for a moment, and Tommy’s smile dips. I always seem to hurt him, even when I’m not trying to. Edana makes another low sound beside me and I hand over her reins to Tommy, “Thanks.” He still looks worried, and his smile is still stretched thin. “You’re a good friend.”

Tommy’s mouth twists and something crosses his face that’s dangerously reminiscent of the way he looked when he asked me about the dance. “So are you,” he says, then turns away quickly with Edana, leaving me alone in the empty yard.

-

Later, after I’m dry, after Skata’s been declared healthy by the vet, and it’s been determined that Mutt’s only sprained his ankle, Holly pulls me off to the side. He’s barely said a word to me since I got back, and I can’t help but wonder what’s important enough to say now, when the day is nearly over.

“I know you’ve had a long day,” he says, clapping a hand on my shoulder, “but the county show is tomorrow, and Mutt can’t ride.”

There’s a moment when I don’t realize what he’s asking me, but Jonathan and Brian seem to appear out of nowhere. “So Sean’s riding!” Jonathan crows, throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

Brian pushes his arm off, but he’s smiling in a good-natured way that makes me regret not talking to them when I’d first gotten back. They were my first friends here, after all.

“Without Corr?” I ask, and Holly frowns slightly.

“I know,” he says, “but life has to go on. We’ll keep looking for him after, and the police on the mainland will do everything they can, but we can’t withdraw from the show.”

I fix my gaze over Holly’s shoulder, past the barn and into the growing darkness of the island. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of Brightfield, is Corr. I feel like a part of me is out there with him, lost in the wilds of the island. Doing the show without him seems impossible, but I understand Edana, even if she doesn’t understand me.

I swallow and cut my gaze back over to Holly.“Alright,” I say. “I’ll do it.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! This AU has been so much fun to write, and I hope everyone else has had as much fun reading this as we did writing it! Thanks so much for your support <3

PUCK 

It's show day, and the yard is mayhem.    
  
Riders are rushing back and forth between lorries and the stables. Confused whinnies ring through the early morning air as horses are awakened, and shouts and orders are exchanged between pony campers and parents.    
  
My insides are a chaotic jumble that match Brightfield's, churning with the memories of Sean's jaw brushing past mine, Corr's empty stall, Chester's mane in my face, Dove walking, Holly smiling behind a closed door. There are summers that you think you'll remembers, and summers you know you will, and this is one for the books.    
  
"Put that up!" Holly barks at me as I balance a saddle on my hip and lead ropes attached to two ponies. "We're running late."    
  
One pony stamps a leg at him. "That's not my fault, I was here an hour ago," I say irritably, but hand him the saddle to jam into the backseat of his car. Preparations for shows always happen like this- late, riders running amok like chickens with their heads cut off, half groomed horses. But they would leave me to an empty yard to muck and sweep and come home with ribbons, and everything will be back to normal.    
  
I feel as though I've been waiting all summer to truly believe that.    
  
"Where's Kendrick?" Jonathan cries behind me. I whirl around and press a lead line into his fist before he even realizes.   
  
"I don't know, but he needs to be loaded, and get your brother to load the other," I snap. Jonathan looks about to protest, but then blinks down at the ponies, bemused, and leads them away.    
  
Where's Kendrick indeed? I expected him here long ago.    
  
"For luck."    
  
Somebody pushes a paper cup into my hands, which automatically curl around the warmth. Sean stands in front of me with his own cup to his face, looking sideways at all the mayhem.    
  
"Is this... coffee?" I ask suspiciously, looking down at it and trying to hide my furious blushing. It's not working very well. "I'm not even competing."   
  
"Tea," he says, and then the Carrol brothers are jostling him away from me, but that's okay because I feel a sudden rush of gratitude towards him. Tea. How perfect.    
  
"Puck? Is everything loaded?" Holly’s half in and half out of the front seat of his car, peering down at a map to the show grounds with narrowed eyes. I don't know why he bothers. He's gone every year.    
  
"I think so," I say, taking a sip. "Is it time to go?"    
  
"It was time half an hour ago." He leans on the horn, casual in his exuberance, and shouts to the riders, "all aboard who's coming!"    
  
If Dove hadn't been sick, I might have been tempted to come with. Maybe even to ride, though he's never asked me. But I feel a pinch in my stomach when riders begin to pile into the two cars Holly and Tommy are driving. Sean hesitates over the passenger seat in Tommy's car and shoots me a glance. "You're not coming?"    
  
I shake my head. "Work to do here."    
  
Tommy leans over. "Come on, Kendrick, we haven't all day." He shoots me an apologetic grimace while Sean slides into the car, which I don't mind but could've done without. I grimace back and then the car doors are shut and they are gone.    
  
I stand in the empty yard with my tea and my loneliness, watching them roll away.   
  
"Well," I say to the barn cat that's begging by the stalls, "at least I can finish quickly today and not have everybody getting in the way."   
  
Everything seems even more silent than usual, however, I realize as I begin to take my wheelbarrow through the motions of cleaning stalls. It's not just that the horses are gone- it's that Corr is gone, and the horses are not here to mask his absence. Despite everything, I can't help but miss him, and that makes me wonder how Sean is holding up. Every day that passes between his disappearance only shrinks the chances of us ever finding him.    
  
"Hello?"    
  
The question startles me- I thought I was here alone, but I manage to hold onto my pitchfork and step outside of the stall I'm in and peer around the corner. "Is anybody here?"    
  
There's a man standing in the yard, not one I've ever seen before on this island, looking like something out of a magazine ad for the mainlanders. Not like an underwear model. More like a car salesman, with bright eyes and an even smile, but there's something self-assured about his stance that puts me on guard.    
  
"I am," I say. "Holly’s at the show, if you're here about a horse. He owns the yard."   
  
The man sweeps his gaze over me, then pauses. He cocks his head as though he's looking at me, actually looking, not dismissive like most are towards the stablehand. His smile widens. "I am here about a horse, but I think you could probably help me. Do you know of a Corr being stabled here?"    
  
He flips out his hand, and there's a photograph of Corr- bright as a new penny, red as blood. I try not to widen my eyes in surprise. What kind of thief would gloat like this? What does he want? "No," I say, short and unfriendly.    
  
He doesn't seem fazed, merely pockets the photograph into a pair of slacks that cost as much as my house. If anything, his smile burns even brighter. "That's alright. I'll just go and ask Holly. Where did you say he was- at the county show?"    
  
I hadn't said. But he knows this, said this on purpose, I can tell, by the way his eyes flash. He's clever, but maybe in the dangerous way. "I need to get back to work to work," I merely say, turning back to the stalls, mind running over his appearance.    
  
Who are you?    
  
There's the sound of a car, and I'm alone again. For a moment I'm frozen, holding my wheelbarrow, but then I'm dropping it and running to get Chester from his stall. Something is happening.    
  
I have to find Sean.    
  
*****   
  
"Hey, you're not a rider here!"   
  
"What is she wearing? Those can't be show clothes."    
  
Whispers and shouts follow me through the show grounds as I trot Chester past rows of trailers and arenas, all festooned with balloons and streamers and color, color, color. The chestnut is a worried mess beneath me, but he's the least of my worries.    
  
I find Sean in the warm-up ring on Edana. She's moving great- in the bit, head low, gait even, but something's wrong. Her ears flicker uncertainly on Sean, and he's distracted, looking everywhere but at his horse.    
  
He jerks when his gaze finds me, seeing my expression, and then he's trotting over, ignoring the ponies he cuts off. "So you know."    
  
"What did the man want?"    
  
He gives me an odd look. The feeling in my stomach drops even more- what else is wrong? "The man?"   
  
"What do I know?" I ask, slowly realizing that we're talking about two entirely different things. Edana tosses her head, flinging lather and slobber onto Chester's neck.    
  
"Holly."    
  
Nothing makes sense.    
  
Realization dawns across his face. "Holly. He's the one who stole Corr." And then I know what's on his face- horror. Betrayal. Corr's protector threw it all away, and for what? Money?    
  
It slices at me, too. I trusted him. Finn loved him. And he was the one who stole Corr? But Sean's certain, I can see it in his eyes.    
  
"Oh, Puck, good, you're here." It's Holly behind me, and my sudden flash of- rage? spooks Chester forwards. I whirl in the saddle.    
  
"What do you want?" I snap.    
  
He ducks his chin, eyes flickering from me to Sean. "So you know. And I can't explain how wrong I was."    
  
"No. You can't." Sean's voice is ice.    
  
Holly swallows. "But I can tell you this- he's in the cove on the eastern side of the island. They're taking him in the afternoon."    
  
Neither of us move. He's lying. He has to be. But I see the apology in his mouth.  "Why?"    
  
"Because I'll never forgive myself."    
  
I glance at Sean. It's good enough for him, because he's legging Edana forwards, even as I cluck to Chester. The mare shoots through the gate to the warm-up and then we're off, tearing away from the fairgrounds, across the island.    
  
I know where the cove is, and Sean lets me lead, but my mind is spinning. It was Holly all along. I can't believe it, but it makes sense. Corr is valuable but also unruly- he's a client worth losing, that nobody would care to search for, that's young and beautiful enough to sell for a high price on the mainland.    
  
Which is what's going to happen if we don't get there in time.    
  
Sean crouches low in Edana's mane. She's flying, faster than I've ever seen, and so is Chester. It's exhilarating and I am so, so alive with the speed of it.    
  
We slow only when we near the cove. I sit up and signal to Sean, and reluctantly, he pulls back against Edana. The mare fights the bit, but Chester is tired and drops gait instantly, breathing heavily.    
  
"We'll walk from here," I say, dismounting and finding a crag of rock to loop Chester's reins over. "Don't want them seeing us approaching."    
  
Sean agrees wordlessly, sliding down from Edana, tying her to my saddle, but his mind isn't here. It's already over the sand dunes, towards the cove, where Corr is. I can hear him now, a kerning that could be mistaken for the wind if you weren't paying attention.    
  
I am paying attention.    
  
We creep towards the edge of the cove, looking down into it. It's just a curve of sand, shielded from prying eyes on the beach, and beyond that- the ocean, so heartbreakingly infinite. Guarding the edge of the cove is two men and a van, pacing restlessly, hands cupped to their mouths, talking to somebody. Holly? Has he tipped them off?   
  
I'm sick with the uncertainty of it all.    
  
And there's Corr, below us, tied to a pile of rocks. He's livid, and screaming, but he doesn't move, and the reason becomes clear to me in a moment- bells, tied around his slender pasterns. When he moves, they ring, and he flinches at the sound. Sean beside me is frozen.    
  
I blink back tears and look at him, away from Corr. "Go down there and get him. Ride for the fairgrounds as fast as you can, and I'll follow with Edana and Chester."    
  
"And you?" he asks, unable to tear his gaze from Corr.    
  
I swallow. "I'm the distraction."    
  
"No." He finally looks away, but not towards me. Towards the ocean. "I can't let you do that."   
  
"Bit late for that," I say, standing, an idea already half formed in my mind. "Just do it. We can't lose him. Not after all of this."    
  
He takes a deep breath, then nods, standing, eyes back on Corr. My heart is a rabbit in my chest. The men on the beach are nothing I've ever dealt with before, and the wild ride behind us is just the beginning. "Sean," I say, like it means something else.    
  
When he looks at me, I grab his chin and kiss him, hard. "For luck," I say, when we break apart.    
  
He nods, firmly, as though that's settled. "For luck," he repeats, and then he's gone, down the hill to get Corr.    
  
A moment later I'm racing around the edge of the cove, down to the beach and towards the mouth. The men are talking, looking out across the ocean, waiting for a boat. I don't see one, but there's no time to waste. Sean is almost to Corr, plain as daylight.    
  
One of the men turns, about to look at Corr. He'll see Sean, bent over and removing the bells. Corr begins to move again.     
  
"Hey!" I shout, startling myself with the volume of my voice. "What are you doing here? Why have you got a horse?"    
  
Sean flinches. So do the men, and then they're facing me, away from Corr. Good. Except now I have their attention and no idea what to do with it.    
  
"What are you doing here, girl?" One of the men snarls. Behind him, Sean swings onto Corr, bareback, his lead rope tied to his halter like reins. He's going to die if he tries to ride that stallion like that.    
  
I plant a hand on my hip and try not to look too concerned. "Walking on the beach, obviously. What you're doing is far more questionable."    
  
The man narrows his gaze, then glances over his shoulder. "Ake!" he barks out. "It's a diversion!"    
  
The other man, Ake, lunges forwards and grabs at me. Before I can run, before I can escape, his hand is around my arm, the other one gripping a knife.    
  
Everybody freezes, attention on that knife. It's pointy, and angled towards my throat, but I look towards Sean instead, heart in my mouth. He, too, is frozen on Corr's back. "Now, get off, or the girl get it," Ake snarls to Sean.    
  
He hesitates.    
  
"Sean," I say, hoping he understands to leave. They're horse thieves, not murderers. But he sets his jaw, and Corr is flying- towards them. For a moment he's a horse alight, fire in the sun, and then he's crashing past us. The man holding me cries out, and his grip loosens, and I'm spinning across the sand, my cry choked out of me by the memory of a hoof against my side. The slice of a knife through my breeches. I seize it and roll to a stop, ready to stab the next person to reach for me.   
  
Then Sean and Corr are flying down the beach, just a small dot on a red giant, and with them, the men. They've forgotten me in the frenzy, leaping into their van, and for once I'm grateful to be invisible.    
  
I stab the knife into the ground and rush back up the cove, to where Edana and Chester are tied. I cannot hope to outrun Corr, to outrun a van, but I know this island like none other. I'll reach the fairgrounds before the others do.    
  
It still might be too late.    
  
*****

 

By the time I get to the fairgrounds, it’s over.

 

I can see the flashing of the sirens, the police cars parked carelessly at the bottom of the hill. Cautious of Chester’s exhaustion and Edana’s thinning patience, I halt at the top of the hill and watch the scene play out, see Sean get off Corr and stagger over to the Carroll brothers and Tommy, arms around each other, see the attention in his stance as a police officer interrogates him, and then checks over Corr. I watch as Holly approaches, and something dark spins in my stomach, but then words are exchanged and he slips quietly into a police car. Then Sean looks up the hill, towards me, and waves. 

 

I wave back. Then I lay a rein against Chester’s neck, touch Edana’s lead line, and we head for home.

 

The ride back is long enough that the rest of Brightfield has already returned, prideful and jubilant from the show. They’ve won, but we’ve lost so much more, and everybody is caught up enough in their own thoughts that nobody offers me a hand with Edana and Chester. I just lead them through the yard, invisible as always, and untack them by the tack shed while Sean fusses over Corr in the stall, carefully wrapping his legs, tending to every little nick and cut on that horse’s body.

 

Some things will never change. 

 

The sun has streaked the sky with its setting colors, purple and orange and the palest of blues, by the time most of the yard has left for the night. It’s just me, finishing up chores, with Sean helping and Tommy and the Carroll brothers chatting quietly over mugs of tea. I’m not necessarily included, but I’m not excluded either, and it feels nice. Corr is banging around in his stall again, slowly returning Brightfield back to normal. But it never really will be. Holly’s gone. Mutt has a new horse. And Sean…

 

Well, this has been a summer for change. 

  
“Puck, Sean, the rest of the stalls can wait for morning,” Tommy says tiredly. “I think we all just need to go home. It’s been a long day.”

 

I don’t want to know what tomorrow at Brightfield will feel like, without Holly here. Surely it will sell, and to whom? Will I be able to keep my job? Sean and I exchange glances, wondering what tomorrow will bring, but Tommy’s right. We can’t keep avoiding it. So we silently stow the wheelbarrow away, and the five of us make our way to the entrance of the stable, where a horse lorry is waiting, engine idling. 

 

“Who is that?” Sean asks warily, Tommy already stepping in front of us to knock on the window. There’s a sick feeling in my gut. I recognize the car waiting behind the trailer.

 

Sure enough, the strange man from earlier steps out of the car and exchanges quiet words with Tommy. There’s a handshake, and a gleam of a smile over it. Then Tommy turns, and his expression is grim. “Everybody,” he says, awkwardly. “Meet Corr’s owner. Corr’s owner, meet… everybody.” 

 

Of course.

 

Sean sighs beside me, so soft that nobody else could have heard it. After all we’ve been through, we’re losing Corr to this strange man with the stranger smile. But Jonathan looks confused. “Wait, I thought Malvern owned him?”

  
The man shakes his head and holds up a photo of Corr as a colt. He couldn’t have been much younger than he was when Gabe and I found him on the beach. “I lost him many years ago, and have been searching ever since. And now I’ve found him.” 

 

Tommy looks at Sean, almost apologetic. “I’ll go get him.”

 

Sean doesn’t even bother responding. He disappears back into the yard, to fetch his horse, for the last time. The unfairness of it all bites at me. Corr doesn’t care about legality- in everything but name, he belongs to Sean. “This can’t be right.” 

 

“Pardon?” The strange man’s smile doesn’t fade, but something about it turns deadly. Brian shoots me a warning look. 

 

I shake my head and step towards him. I’m not afraid. “Sean trained that horse. He took him from unmanageable, wild, dangerous, and turned him into- well, look.” And sure enough, there’s Sean, leading Corr quietly from the yard. Corr tosses his head and looks towards us, towards the trailer, but then nudges Sean’s shoulder with his nose and settles. “They belong together.” 

 

“I’ve not much time for sentimentality. This horse has some of the best breeding in the country,” the smiling man says. “He’s worth far more than you could ever imagine. I’ll take it from here.” 

 

Sean doesn’t protest when he takes the lead from Corr, but his fingers linger on the stallion’s shoulder. Something about his gaze turns empty. 

 

Corr is an instant riot. He rears up, tugging at the lead line, and pulling away, away, away. The man cries out, the lead line snaps up into the air, and then he trots towards Sean, snorting uncertainly. It’s been a long day. He’s no patience for antics with strangers. 

 

Sean stares at the lead line dangling from Corr’s halter for a moment too long before reaching out and grabbing it. “I’ll load him,” he says, and there’s no room for argument in his voice. Corr follows him quietly enough to the waiting lorry, up the ramp and inside. 

 

“I’ll close it up,” I volunteer quickly, though nobody has asked. I hurry to the front door, looking inside. Sean is standing at Corr’s head, the stallion’s face pressed against him, lips in his mane, whispering. It’s so private, so intimate, that I look away. And then a moment later Sean is slipping through the front door, not looking at me. At anybody.

 

I close the door. But I don’t lock it.

 

“Thank you,” says Corr’s owner. “That was very painless. I prefer it when things go painlessly. Much less of a mess to clean up.” 

 

I glower at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice, and if he notices, he doesn’t care. He merely brushes his fingers across his forehead in a type of salute and slides into his car. Corr rocks inside the lorry as it slowly pulls away, throwing his head back to release a wail. Sean draws in a shuddering breath, and without even thinking I seize his hand, trying to let him know that it’s all going to be okay. Maybe not now, definitely not tomorrow, but one day it will be. 

 

The lorry rocks slowly away from Brightfield, around the corner, and then it’s gone. With it slips the sun, finally past the horizon, leaving us all in darkness. Corr’s keen slowly fades in the distance and it’s just us five, standing in an empty parking lot. Everything is coming to an end. 

 

“Well,” Tommy says bitterly. “I suppose that’s it.” 

 

It’s over. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. 

 

Brian nods, once. His eyes are unreadable, but there’s something set about his eyebrows. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he mutters. “I don’t suppose-”

 

Something is coming, louder than his words. Hoofbeats. 

 

“Corr!” Sean calls out, tugging away from me. And yes, there, a great shape flying around the corner, gleaming even in this darkness, and Sean’s running. They meet in the middle of the parking lot, and their silhouettes become one as the stallion slides to a stop at Sean’s feet. My heart tears, just a little. I can’t imagine somebody taking Dove away from me, not like this. 

 

Shoes slap the pavement and Corr’s owner appears in the dusk, breathing hard and out of shape. “What is wrong with this horse?”

 

“It’s Sean,” Jonathan pipes up. “They love each other.” 

 

The thing is, he isn’t wrong.

 

“Love.” The man takes a few deep breaths, struggling. “I hadn’t planned for this to happen.” 

 

“Nobody ever really can,” Tommy says, and there’s something so painfully honest in his voice that I have to stop and give him a stern look. He smiles at me, sheepish. 

 

“I don’t think there’s any way to change this beast’s mind, then?” Corr’s owner asks, surveying the two. He doesn’t look disappointed, however. His eyes narrow, calculating. Alarm bells are going off in me, but nobody else seems wary. Instead their interest sharpens around the owner and Sean, who is standing by Corr’s side, watching us all, chin tucked cautiously inside his popped collar. “Well, this might work out after all. I have a horse. All I need now is a rider.”

 

“I can’t leave,” Sean says, but there’s something troubled in his voice. I think, even after all we’ve been through, that he would leave for Corr. He would do anything for him, but so would I for Dove. I understand, though I don’t have to love it.

 

“No, of course not,” Corr’s owner says briskly. “I’ll board him here, and you’ll ride him. That seems fair to me.” 

 

Nobody says anything for a long time. We’re all cupped in this moment, this day. Everything is changing, too much, too fast. But we have to keep up, else we’ll get left behind. 

 

We all know what Sean is going to choose. 

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with [me](https://monmouthco.tumblr.com) and [notpuckconnolly](https://notpuckconnolly.tumblr.com) on tumblr!!


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